


Nocturne

by ravenpuff1956



Series: A magnificent waltz [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Late Night Conversations, Singing, piano playing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-11-18 10:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 49,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18119009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenpuff1956/pseuds/ravenpuff1956
Summary: Tina tosses and turns, unable to sleep, the horrible memories of the last few days continuing to plague her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I got this idea from this story for a few reasons.  
> 1: I love the idea of Newt playing the piano to Tina.  
> 2: I really want them to get together before the next movie. (I swear to god if there's still 'will they, won't they' angst in the next one...)  
> 3: I realised that all the stories I seem to write, are about them getting together at the end. So I decided to write one about them, getting together at the start (Yay!)  
> and 4: I really like this show called 'Miss Fisher's Murder mystery's' (Which I highly recommend if you like badass ladies, the 1920s, murder and sexual tension).  
> Anyway...I hope everyone likes it! This will be multi-chaptered, but be prepared that it might take a while, as I have class and stuff unfortunately. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I highly suggest, before or during or after reading this (only if you want though!) to look up, 'miss fisher, let's misbehave' or something like that on youtube, as that scene is where I got the inspiration for one of the scenes in this story.

Tina tosses back and forth in her sheets hopelessly. Tiredness has sunk into her bones, making everything ache. The only release is for her to shut her eyes. But every time she does, blue flames explode behind her eyeballs. Queenie grabs a monster’s hand, she loses Credence in the fray, and Leta explodes into dust. 

Tina rips her eyelids open, a cold sweat dribbling over her skin, her pulse racing. Rubbing her palms over her clammy forehead, she sighs wetly. Tina had thought she’d cried out all her emotions last night, on the steps of the graveyard. But apparently not. Her gloom is not only a cloud hanging over her, but a waking nightmare, ready to jump out at her in the quiet moments. 

Tears prick at her eyes. All Tina is certain of is; that she’s not giving up. She’s not going to stop fighting. Not for a single second. She’s fighting for Credence, for Queenie, for Leta, for everyone. Tina’s going to do everything in her power to stop Grindlewald. Nothing is more important. 

Her fists fall with soft thuds on the musty sheets. Moonlight shines dimly through the open window, casting shadows over her blankets. If she tilts her to just the right angle, Tina can catch a glimpse of a magnificent castle. Hogwarts. She gives an incredulous silent giggle. The stories she picked up about it from her classmates were all; dirty stones, freezing corridors and bats that slept in the rafters. A disgusting, cold abode for children to learn in. It was Ilvermony or nothing; with its marble floors and wide green lawns. Tina was loyal to a fault, and the American school was definitely the best in the world. 

But Hogwarts… There was something about it. Even just stepping onto its bridge this morning had caused a tingle to sizzle down her spine. It was an old magic, one of danger and adventure and Tina liked it. Liked it more than she’d ever admit. 

She carefully swings her legs over the side of the bed- not wanting to wake the slumbering snake sleeping in the matching bed beside her- and pads over to the window. Clear, crisp Scotland air enters her lungs and Tina breathes it in deeply. Tina had never thought she’d leave America, leave New York. She thought she’d be content with the hustle and bustle of the down town streets, and soaring sky-scrapers. But being in Paris- walking down the elegant cobblestoned streets, all drenched in romantic candlelight. And now Scotland, wild moors to explore, cold wind to pinken her cheeks…Thunderbirds needed to stretch their wings, right? Perhaps even land somewhere. That is, if someone wanted her to.  
Tina leans her elbows against the window frame, staring wistfully up at the stars. From what Dumbledore suggested this morning, it would seem as though she is going to be able to stretch her wings a new land sooner than she thought. A thread of excitement rushes through her. South America! Newt would love South America. There are probably hundreds of creatures, lying in wait under ferns, hidden in tree tops… A silly grin works its way onto her face. 

Newt Scamander. Three nights ago, Tina was cursing herself for ever falling for him. Tonight he’d wished her goodnight with a sweet smile and a clumsy hand press. She can still feel his touch on her skin, like it’s a watermark on a table. It makes her giddy, being in his presence. ‘And,’ Tina feels her face heat up, ‘she thinks everyone else knows that as well,’ By Jacob’s smirk, Yusuf’s eyebrow raise. Even Dumbledore’s eyes had twinkled her way as their mismatched little group finally left his office this afternoon. 

But she can’t help it. An alarm in her brain goes off when he enters the room, and Tina’s eyes unconditionally follow his every movement. It’s like Newt’s a candle, and she’s a moth, constantly drawn in to his heat. It’s a feeling she stubbornly tried to resist back in Paris. Her broken heart was too delicate for his shy looks and crooked smile. But now…now Tina is a salamander, and she’s captivated by Newt’s flame.

Tina breaths out silent laugh, running a weary hand over her face. Mercy Lewis she’s hopeless. Completely and utterly…What is that?

She dangles herself out on the window ledge, her feet hanging perilously off the ground. Music. Someone is playing music, downstairs, in the depth of the night. Tina cocks her head in confusion. If it was just the familiar sound of a record, she wouldn’t be surprised. Something old and crackly, perfect for the lovelorn to drown in their sorrows to. She’d seen the depths of the grief in both Jacob and Theseus’ eyes and knows that neither one is getting any sleep tonight. But it’s not a record. It’s not even a radio. Some is playing an actual piano downstairs. Tina can tell by the way the person occasionally fumbles, a wrong key or sharp mixing obtusely with an otherwise pleasant melody.

“What on earth?” Tina exclaims quietly, reaching for her wand and sneaking quietly out of her bedroom. 

The One Broomstick (soon to be two, Mr Rosmerta had told them proudly while they were booking in), only had a few rooms upstairs. So there was only one staircase for Tina to steal down, her footsteps made silent by the roaring music. And even when the last step rudely creaks, the sonata doesn’t falter. In fact, it gets even more tremendous. 

Tina creeps into the bar, the music casting a spell on her, drawing her in to thrall. She blinks blearily, as the piano comes into view, then a flickering candle. And then Newt, who is playing so furiously he doesn’t even look up from the keys. His eyes are closed, and he’s swaying softly, to and fro to the beat, completely transported by the music. Tina’s mouth runs dry as she watches him, completely enraptured, the notes coming as easy to him as taming the Zouwu was. Will this man ever stop surprising her? Ever stop being so extraordinary?

Beads of sweat form on his brow, as Newt moves faster and faster, fingers flying almost becoming a blur. It’s hard, passionate, classical music; full of drama and danger. She’s never been a fan of dark tunes; music, she believes, should always be a joy. Like the sound of her mother’s sweet voice. But Tina can appreciate it; the way it trembles like thunder, and grasps at her heart. 

But the piece has to come to an end. It slows, the notes get lower and deeper, until Newt finally presses down on the final cord, with a practiced ease. Although Tina can’t help up notice the strained line in his back, and the way he winces when he cracks his fingers. 

“That was beautiful,” she tells him softly, and Newt jumps, banging his knees on the piano’s belly.

“Tina,” he gasps in pain, as she draws closer, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t,” Tina sighs tiredly. Newt nods, solemn knowledge written all over his face and she gives him a sad smile. They stare at each other for a moment, but then he pats the seat beside him and Tina sits down, running a shaky finger over the keys. 

“I didn’t know you could play,” Tina says, pressing down on a key, listening to the bright sound bounce around the room. 

“Yes, well, mother insisted,” Newt says wryly, absently playing a simple scale. 

His fingers are so long that they easily spread across the keys. Watching the muscles in his hands stretch causes something hot to tug in her belly. Tina nibbles on her bottom lip. They’re covered in freckles, and are few fingers are scattered with bites and scars. But they’re gentle, kind hands. One that would hold her, have held her. Tina would dearly love to take one now, interlace their fingers their fingers, bath in the warmth of his touch. But she doesn’t. Instead she clasps them in her lap, tightly as if they’re going to escape and start making decisions of their own. 

“There was plenty of time to practice at Hogwarts,” Newt says wistfully, and Tina smiles. She can tell, even in his disdain at being forced to do something, he clearly loved this instrument, “that was Leta’s favourite piece,” he gestures vaguely at the complicated sheets of music lying on the stand, becoming subdued. 

Tina clenches her teeth together sympathetically. Of course. The mournful, erratic music must have called to Leta, a woman who held a secret far too long to be sane. A secret no child should have to carry, and a clear burden she held for the rest of her life. Tina can’t even imagine the pain she must have gone through. Especially as she knew, if she was put her place, she would’ve gripped onto Queenie's bundle so tight she would’ve left marks on her skin. But for Leta to watch her younger sibling die, leaving her to slowly drown in guilt, unable to speak a word to anyone…

The piece somehow encapsulated that. The steady beat, that never faltered, as if everything was perfectly fine. But underneath the apparent steadiness, the music was a tidal wave of emotion. 

She looks over to Newt. He’s staring off into the distance to an empty booth, his eyes glazed over. Tina can easily imagine two children curled up there, giggling over glasses of bubbling butter-beer. 

Leta Lestrange. The woman who was part of her nightmares for months. Who wore a sparkly ring, who had free reign to squeeze Newt’s arm, the woman who she thought Newt still carried in his heart. Tina wasn’t sure what she expected the her to be like. Not a bad person. Newt had loved her after all, Leta wouldn’t have been mean. But Tina did expect her to be completely different from her; a British Queenie almost, fashionable, bubbly, easy to flirt and smile. However what Tina found was a woman, unlike her yes, but also someone she connected with. Someone if given time, she could’ve become friends with. Would’ve liked to become friends with.

Tina presses her knee gently into Newts and her leans back, their Pyjama pants rubbing together. 

“I liked her,” Tina says quietly, settling her fingers delicately on the keys, “I know I only knew her for a moment, but I liked her,” 

Newt pauses his rubbing, for a moment. Then his knee slowly lifts as he slides his foot down her thigh, causing Tina’s heart to jump to her throat, as his nails graze her skin through the cotton. 

“Thank you,” Newt says softly, “thank you for saying that,” 

He shuffles in his seat, and she watches out of the corner of her eye as his gaze keeps flitting towards her. Newt finally turns to face her ever so slightly, a rosy red flush along his nose. 

“Thank you for you,” Tina hears him breath, as his knee presses against hers again, and she takes a deep breath, trying to keep her nerves under check.

There’s a small circle of heat radiating from where they touch, and Tina leans into it sleepily, causing their shoulders to brush together. They touched a lot in Paris. All accidental (on her side anyway, Tina blushes in realization). And each time a current tumbled up her arm causing her to jump away from the almost elemental effect Newt seems to have on her. But now the bursts of electricity have turned into a deep burn from their constant contact. Newt sighs and Tina shifts closer pressing their thighs together. His hand slowly slithers up between them, and she watches, waiting with bated breath for what he’ll do next. 

Newt makes a show of placing his hand next to hers, his fingers spreading out like a spider’s over the keys, and Tina determinedly resists the shy urge to pull her hand away. Every few seconds he creeps along the keys, giving her plenty of time to flit away. She stays still, or as still as she can, feeling as if a box of fireworks has just been set off inside her stomach. 

Finally, Newt gingerly places his thumb over hers, and squeezes lightly. Tina lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She turns towards him. Newt’s nose is drooping towards her collar and his mouth is soft and open. 

“Newt,” Tina mumbles, and he looks up. Newt’s eyes are wide and bright. 

Tina had forgotten what he looked like, during their months apart, as what happens when you’re separated from someone from a long time. His body went first, then the exact constellations of his freckles. And slowly, but surely, Newt disappeared in her mind’s eye, leaving only his words from his letters for Tina to hang on to. (That is until she saw that photo of him in that magazine, and she all but tried to rip his image from her memory). But what Tina could never seem to shift, was the colour of Newt’s eyes. Green, blue, gold, all melted together in two beautiful pools. She’s never seen eyes as complicated as his before. They gave her an escape of wilderness in the jungle of concrete that is New York city’s streets. And not matter how much Tina tried, she couldn’t help yearning to see them again. Yearning to see him again. 

Newt’s thumb is rubbing hers shakily. He’s taking deep, breathes, seemingly controlling himself. Tina’s heart jumps as he wets his lips. 

“Tina,” Newt whispers, his voice merely more than a breath, as he leans in.

Her eyes close nervously as she readies herself, her backs as straight as a board. Tina’s determined to make no sudden movements; both to prevent possibly spooking him and prevent herself from chickening out. Tina’s lips tremble in anticipation. 

This is something she’s wanted, daydreamed about for so long. It’s almost like she’s watching herself on a moving-picture screen, on the edge of her seat, knowing what’s coming, but exhilarated all the same. Newt’s nose brushes hers. 

Clang!

They jump apart, blushing profusely. One of them had accidentally pressed down on a flat, causing a rude note to ruin their moment. 

Newt’s stuttering inaudible apologies. Tina reels on the edge of her piano stool, the warmth of his lips ghosting hers lightly. Mercy Lewis. 

“I’m so sorry Tina,” Newt finally blathers out audible words. She can practically see his heart jumping out of his chest, “You’re tired, I’m tired,” 

Tina leans her head up against the piano’s music stand, just (only just) preventing herself from hitting her head against the hard wood. She shuts her eyes, wincing in regret. They were so close. They are they only ever close? Why can’t they just be together?

“Caught up in the moment…” Newt trails off despondently. Tina feels his weight shift next to he, like he’s readying himself to flee.

“We’re not very good at this,” she blurts out, and he halts, “are we?”

Newt huffs out a laugh. It has no humour in it. 

“No, I don’t think we are,” he admits drily. 

Tina opens her eyes. Newt’s running a cautious finger over the piano keys. Each tiny dip between the ivory, makes a little clicking sound as his nail passes of it. She imagines each ‘click’ as if it’s a step she has to take; to a door she has to open. Gathering her courage to her chest, Tina takes a deep breath. 

“You can kiss me, if you want,” Tina says tremendously. Newt’s finger pauses mid click, his mouth falling open in a soft ‘o’. She can’t tell what he’s feeling besides shock, and shifts nervily in her seat.

“I mean I wanted you too,” Tina shrugs hopelessly, looking down at her lap timidly, “I’ll always want you to,” she admits softly, already half hoping he didn’t hear her, an embarrassed blush filling her cheeks. 

She sits quietly, studying her legs. The pants are too short at the ankle. Tina borrowed them off one of Dumbledore’s teacher friends, as she left her few possessions at a random boarding house in Paris. Professor McGonagall, she thinks. 

Someone takes her hand. Tina looks up. Newt is cradling her palm like it’s a baby bird. Her heart stutters, as he runs soft circles around her skin with a gentle finger. A shiver runs through her and he hums, fanning out her fingers studiously. 

“You’ve got long fingers,” Newt says solemnly, as though she’s a new organism he’s just discovered, “but small feet,”

‘How does he know I have small feet?’ Tina crosses her ankles self-consciously. Newt flicks his eyes up, and his expression shifts from serious to loving, his eyelids softening.

Slowly he leans down and presses a kiss to her skin. Tina shudders, her blood dancing where his lips are touch her. A lightness fills her chest, and swims into her brain, a love found fog making her almost dizzy. A volcano could’ve erupted outside and she doesn’t think she would’ve noticed. All that matters, is the back of Newt’s head bending over her hand, and the soft indentation of his lips that are being burnt into her skin.

Eventually, unfortunately, he pulls away. Tina watches adoringly as Newt rubs his lips together, as if trying to determine what she tastes like. The sentence, ‘I hope I taste good,’ almost falls off her tongue, but luckily for her pride, gets caught in her throat as a gasp. 

“Noted,” Newt says smiling, giving her hand a final squeeze before letting go. 

“What?” Tina asks stupidly, still slightly light headed. 

“I can kiss you whenever I want,” he replies cheekily, bumping his hip into hers lovingly. Tina smiles, nodding bashfully and lightly tracing the tingling spot on her palm.

“There was actually an important reason I came down here to practice,” Newt says abruptly, he carefully gathers up the music sheets, and tucks them under the piano stool safety, before dragging out some others. 

“Yes?” Tina says absently, her nail still raking down her skin. 

“Well, you know how we were talking about music in our letters,” she nods, remembering his passionate lines about Mozart and Chopin and wondering again, why he never told her about his musical skill.

“And you said you liked jazz?” Newt sounds rather hesitant now, carefully spreading out the new piece in front of him with shaky hands. 

All the dots and squiggles are incomprehensible to Tina, but the English title is simple to read. It’s one of her favourite songs: one that makes her tap her foot and swing her hips every time she hears it. ‘Let’s Misbehave’. She blinks, her heart happily filling incredulously.

“Newt,” she moans, leaning her head on his shoulder, “you didn’t have to do that,” 

Tina feels him shake his head, and place a feather light kiss to her head. Newt’s nimble fingers spread lovingly out on the piano keys, smoothly playing a bright prelude. She lifts herself off him, to give him full access to his right arm and settles back in her seat letting the sweet music wash over her. Slowly his bouncing flourishes turn into a melody she recognises. Unable to stop herself, Tina begins to softly sing. 

“We’re all alone, no chaperone, to get our number. The world’s in slumber, let’s misbehave,” she breathes, only a smidge out of tune. Tina blushes, as a blissful grin spreads across Newt’s face. 

“There something wild about you child, that’s so contagious. Let’s be outrageous, let’s misbehave,” his voice is deeper than Tina would’ve thought, and much more controlled and powerful than her own. She bites her lip, shuffling closer to him. 

“You know my heart is true, and you say you, for me care… somebody’s sure to tell, but what the heck do we care?” They sing in unison, Tina’s voice slowly melting into the correct melody, thanks to her partner’s dulcet tones. 

Her eyes don’t leave his, and every now and then Newt’s flick over to hers. Swift, loving bursts of green that seem to smile at her, before turning back to the unfortunately necessary job of reading the music. 

“They say that bears have love affairs, and even camels, we’re merely mammals, let’s misbehave,” A giggle almost bursts through her lips, and Tina ponders the thought that he probably picked this song to learn because of its animalistic undertones. 

She hopes desperately he has a piano hidden somewhere in his case, so all his creatures can listen to him play. Or perhaps there’s one in his basement, that she’s been enthusiastically written to about. 

“We’re merely mammals” Newt sings heartily, turning towards her and smiling widely. And Tina unable to stop herself, cups his cheek, letting his light stubble graze his hand. His fingers don’t still on the piano, but his strong voice fades into a stutter. 

“Let’s misbehave,” Tina whispers, feeling his cheeks wobbly as he swallows. 

The echo of their song lingers in the air, as they lean in and kiss sweetly. Newt’s hand pulls at shirt, tugging her closer and Tina blissfully complies. It’s warm, and right and perfect, and she can’t help but grin as they break apart, her happiness pooling out of her like a waterfall. 

“Newt,” Tina mumbles into his neck, as he wraps his arms around her in a hug.

“Tina,” Newt breathes, the sides of his lips brushing her cheek, and she snuggles into him, feeling for the first time in ages, that she could peacefully fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt wanders down stairs. But where is Tina?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I know. I said the next chapter was going to take longer. But in my defense I'm procrastinating an assignment due at the end of this week so...(shh, it's going to be fine).  
> Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

Finally, Newt decides, after the third time he’s woken to the sun rudely pushing it's rays on his face, to get up. He’s probably only managed to have about two or three hours sleep, and he can already tell today’s going to be a slog unless he manages to sneak a nap in somewhere. But it doesn’t matter that his brain is slow and heavy. It doesn’t matter that his case almost slips out of his hand on the way down the stairs. Because last night he kissed Tina Goldstein.

Newt gives a hopeless smile, one that pinches his cheeks and squeezes his heart.  
He kissed her. On her hand, her cheek, the top of her head, her mouth... And he didn’t even have to ask, like he’d practised. 

The photo of her, that he’d cut out, was entirely unresponsive. But he’d still- sometimes, in the quiet moments- talk to her, ask her things. 

‘Your hair looks soft, like a kneazle…have you ever seen a kneazle? You’d like kneazle’s Tina, they’re like giant cats…do you like cats? Not that we’d ever be able to get a cat, I’m afraid Susan might eat it. But we could get a kneazle, maybe even two, or three…’

That was the extent of most of their ‘conversations’ if Newt was being honest. But her letters were always bursting to the brim with questions about magical creatures, and found he couldn’t answer every question, not properly anyway. He would’ve loved dearly to take her hand, to show her each creature, to point out every tiny detail. But he couldn’t. Because he was writing a letter to be sent across the ocean. So he had to be content with what he deigned most important titbits, written in minute writing. Because he also had to leave room to ask about her. He did so love to hear about her.  
‘But now’, Newt thinks happily, bouncing into the bar, ‘now I can take her hand’. 

He gives the room a quick once over. Then a slow second look. An exhausted Yusuf is making tea for yawning Nagini, who is curled up in a chair, wearing what looks like a man’s shirt, and trousers. Theseus and Jacob are talking seriously over two plates loaded with eggs, bacon, and sausages. 

Tina is nowhere to be found.

His excitement fizzles. Newt shuffles over to his friends, the disappointment pitted in his stomach making him feel a tinge of guilt. He shouldn’t feel disappointment about having breakfast with his brother and best-friend. Yet he’s also about to check under the tables for a certain witch. 

“Ah Newt,” Theseus greets him, pulling up at chair, “do you want a full English or half? I’ll just call Rosmerta…” 

Newt doesn’t sit. Instead his fingers drum frantically along the back of the chair, his nerves itching.

“Where’s Tina?” he asks impatiently, his case banging against his legs. 

Theseus blinks. Jacob guffaws around a forkful of eggs. 

“Told you,” the muggle says, elbowing Theseus in the ribs, his eyes shining with amusement. 

His brother rolls his eyes, and rummages in his pockets, grumbling under his breath. 

“How much?” he sighs, pulling out his money pouch as Newt looks on, unable to shake the feeling that he might be missing something.

“Ten pounds,” Jacob says cheerfully, cutting into his bread with a flourish.

“Five sickles,” Yusuf says, taking a delicate sip of tea.

“That hash brown,” Nagini says, pointing at a particularly delectable looking piece of fried potato on Theseus’s plate.

Theseus, looking frazzled, hands over everything, and Newt’s brow furrows as he comes to an understanding. 

“What were you betting on?” He asks the giggling table suspiciously. 

“That the first word out of your mouth would be something about Tina,” Jacob grins up at him sheepishly. Newt’s shoulders fall forward in embarrassment, as Pickett chatters angrily by his ear. 

“Sorry Pal,” the American says apologetically, and Newt immediately lightens. He doesn’t imagine ever staying mad at the muggle for long. 

Theseus leans back in his chair, giving him an appraising look identical to his fathers. Newt feels no guilt in the peevish look he gives him. 

“Jacob’s been catching me up on this ‘Miss Goldstein,’” his brother cocks a knowing eyebrow. Newt doesn’t duck his head, like he would’ve once upon a time. He’s too busy relishing in the slight enraged glint still hiding behind Theseus’s eyes. Newt’s lips twitch the memory of him being trussed up like a turkey. Thank Merlin for Tina. 

“Yes? And?” he says meaning so sound firm, but not minding when his voice comes out soft and dreamy. 

“Well we’ve come up with some ideas to help you,” Theseus smiles, popping a small roasted tomato into his mouth triumphantly, “Jacob told me about that ‘salamander’ thing, and in my experience-“

“I told her,” Newt says quickly, interrupting what would surely be an essay length explanation of his past conquests, “I already told Tina that her eyes look like salamanders,” 

Theseus’s eyes grow as large as saucers. Jacob’s face turns a pasty white. Yusuf is so preoccupied with looking horrified, that he doesn’t notice the tea spilling over a smiling Nagini’s tea-cup, creating a small brown pool in the saucer.

Newt’s vision glazes over as he conquers up Tina’s tiny grin, her gentle identical answer to the one that stumbled off his lips. He thought she could be never be as beautiful to him as she was in that moment. Then, she sat down next to him last night, in wrinkled Pyjama’s and red rimmed eyes, and sang in softly in his ear, her voice rough with lack of sleep. Newt smiles. He somehow knows that everyday day for the rest of his life, Tina will keep surprising him. 

“And?” Jacob asks croakily, sounding intensely worried for him. 

“Tina liked it,” Newt grins wider, clutching his case closer to him, humming with happiness, “she likes me,” 

The three men blink at him, clearly bewildered at what kind of woman could possibly appreciate such a compliment. Nagini hugs her mug to her chest, smiling knowingly. 

“Tina’s outside somewhere,” she tells him softly, “she wanted to send a letter,” 

Newt thanks Nagini profusely, and wanders out into the mid-day sunshine into the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade. He has no time for a late breakfast or for his friend’s incredulous exclamations. He has a lady to see, and a promise to keep. 

There’s quite a few witches and wizards out enjoying the warm autumn day. But luckily they all seem to be of the older variety, steel haired, and wire rimmed, too busy chatting together amicably to be bothered with knowing who he is. Newt breathes out a grateful breath, every time their kind eyes look unsuspectingly through him. He can barely go to Gringotts these days without being pounced on. The lack of attention makes his quest much easier than it could’ve been, and in almost no time at all the catches the sight of a raven haired witch busy fumbling with a letter, a patient owl sat resiliently on the bench beside her. 

Newt sits back on his heels, taking the time to admire Tina. He way the light catches her hair making it shine. The new style suits her, the bob. It curls around her face, leaving her neck looking be impossibly long, impossibly delicious looking. Newt had gotten his first taste of her last night, the last visceral discovery he had left to uncover from her. She was a smidge smoky, which must've been from their recent adventures, but otherwise salty and almost even sweet. He couldn’t help but lick his lips after, only realizing it might be taken as strange when he noticed Tina staring. But it wasn’t a look of judgement. Instead it was a dark stare, a primal stare. One that made him want to see what she’d do if he did it again. 

“Newt?” Tina greets him with a tight smile, which he can tell has more to do with the letter on her lap than his appearance. He quickly shakes his head out of a tunnel of inappropriate thoughts and joins her. 

“Hello,” he says, tucking his case between his legs as he sits down, “need any help?”

“I’m not sure you’d want to help actually,” Tina huffs, throwing her unfinished letter into her lap.

Newt leans over, but he only manages to pick up bits of her messy handwriting. There’s so many crosses, smudges and misspelled words that he has to study hard to make out anything more than ‘I’m sorry,’ and ‘I don’t expect you to forgive me,’. Giving her a brief worried glance, he checks the postscript. Achilles’ Tolliver. Oh. Newt jumps back as if burned. The auror. Her boyfriend, the auror. 

Tina breaths out a shuddering breath. 

“Newt, listen,” she begins shakily, “I have something to tell you,” 

“You’ve been seeing someone,” Newt cuts in dejectedly, hanging his head. He can feel her gaze on his neck, but refuses to look up. 

“How’d you?” Tina trails off nervously. He can feel her leg trembling beside him. 

“Queenie told me, briefly,” Newt says sadly, his fingers playing with the clasp on his case. They kissed last night, yes. But she is seeing someone else. He won’t get in the way of that. 

“We went on a couple of dates, nothing too serious but,” Tina’s voice sounds as if it’s coming from very far away. Newt knows what ‘but’ means. How could it mean anything else? Mr Tolliver is an idiot if he didn’t try his damnest to win her. Of course that would make him a lucky idiot, for he gets Tina. And Newt gets… he squeezes his eyes tight trying to shut out the world. 

Trembling fingers wrap around his wrist. Newt looks up. Tina’s eyes are bright and shiny. 

“However, I can’t lead him on,” she whispers, two pink points standing out against her cheeks, “I can’t see a man, not when I can’t stop thinking about another,” her fingers stroke his skin softly, and Newt shudders all the anxiety rushes out of his pores as quick as it came. ‘It’s me’, he thinks deliriously, ‘Tina can’t stop thinking about me,’

“He was engaged, so I couldn’t think about him,” she bites her lip, as Newt nods absently. 

He sees now, he sees completely. He sees a gloomy woman sitting at her desk, trying her best not to cry, the hustle and bustle around her passing by unnoticed. She’s angry, hurt and so incredibly sad and generally just wants to go home to scream into a pillow. Then a man approaches her desk, and asks her out, with a kind smile and handsome appearance. And the woman doesn’t want to say yes, not really, it wouldn’t be fair to her heart to do so. But saying no would say an awful lot. It would suggest she was still holding on to a man who was getting married for Christ’s sake. And what kind of person would she be if she mooned after someone with a ring on their finger? So she half-heartedly says yes, wiping her eyes, forcing herself to give her suitor a smile. 

“But now he’s not, and so…” Tina nails tap anxiously on his skin, her dark eyes begging him to understand. 

Newt leans in, brushing her nose to hers, silently celebrating as she sighs gratefully. 

“He never was,” he replies quietly, “he was sitting at home, thinking about the woman, wanting so desperately to come back to her,” 

Newt hears Tina’s gulp, and her hand drops from his wrist to his thigh. 

“A woman with sparks in her eyes, and fire in her soul,” he mumbles, and they’re so close he almost feels her grin. 

“Your salamander,” Tina whispers, kissing the corner of his mouth lightly. Newt grumbles deep in his chest, catching her by the ends of her scarf a pulling her to him. Her mouth tastes like toothpaste, and spring, and all good things. They sway for a moment, before parting, their public setting weighing on their desires. 

Tina’s ducks down, her cheeks a beautiful rosy red, to pick up the letter than that had fell on the ground.

“I’m trying to find the right words that won’t offend him,” Tina brushes off some imagining dirt, from the crumpled paper, “I know it was only a few cups of coffee, but I don’t want to hurt him,”

Newt wraps a shaky arm around her, and she tentatively leans into him, their relationship too new to be completely confident in what they’re doing. 

“I think he’s going to be hurt either way love,” he kisses the top of her head, and she sighs. 

“I know,” Tina’s chin falls to her chest pitifully, “I just wish I could tell him face to face, you know?” 

She scratches the owl’s chest feathers with a gentle finger, and its eyes flutter shut in obvious pleasure. Newt’s heart overflows. She’s so good with creatures. He really hopes she doesn’t mind him teaching her everything he knows. He doesn't know if he'll be able to control himself doing so. 

“It just feels so dishonourable to break off with him in a letter,” Tina kicks out her foot, and it scuffs harshly on the pavement. 

Newt knows he should feel more sympathetic. He knows he’d be devastated if he was on the other side. Devastated would’ve only touched the surface of what he would’ve felt. For three days he suffered while he thought she was with someone else. It was if all his hope was slowly draining out of him, like the final gurgles of bath water down a plug hole. However now his arm is tucked around Tina’s shoulders, and her hair is tickling his chin, and he can’t help but feel the puffed up feeling of success. It’s not as if Tina’s a prize to be won, pulled between him and Mr Tolliver like a Christmas cracker. She’s a human, perfectly capable of making her own decisions. ‘But she still chose you’ a sneaky little voice purrs in the back of his mind, ‘if you were beasts you would’ve already mated by now,’ Newt swallows hard, his cheeks hot and itchy. No, don’t there Newton, not now. Not while she’s so close. So beautiful

Tina shifts laying her head on his chest. He’s sure she can feel how hard his heart his beating. But he could never move her. How could he?

“I think,” Tina says into his shirt, “I should just do it, like ripping of a band aid,” 

“Yes, yes,” Newt stutters, trying to think of anything other than her creamy neck that she’s bared to him. 

Tina curls herself off him, and Newt bites down on his tongue as she blinks innocently at him. She cocks her head to one side, and he can’t help but feel as if he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Thank Merlin, she doesn’t have her sisters gift for mind reading. 

“Newt are you okay?” she asks concerned, “you look all flushed,”

He barely resists the urge to jump into his case. 

“I just,” Newt begins nervously. Tina looks so worried, her eyes flicking around him as if trying to find a certain affliction he’s managed to acquire in the last five seconds. Newt finds his arm slowly raising, his thumb brushing over her cheek. Tina takes a shuddering breath, and he watches tenderly as her cheek turn pink. 

“I’m just so incredibly happy right now,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek softly. 

Tina smiles as he pulls away, two dimples pulling at her cheeks. 

“Me too,” she whispers, and he grins, taking her hand. 

They stare at each other, lost in their mutual joy, until Pickett gives a chirp and they both jump. His knees bump against his case, and Newt pats the worn leather softly, his original plan suddenly jumping into his mind again. 

“Send your letter,” Newt says decisively, “and then, maybe, you’d like to join me in the case?”

Tina’s eyes widen in clear delight, and her smile gets even wider if that’s even possible. 

“Of course,” she nods repeatedly, and Newt numbly nods back, struck by her enthusiasm, “I’d like that, very much,”

They both watch as she awkwardly tries to stuff the letter into the envelope. Both know it would be easier if they released each other’s hands, but Tina resolutely holds on and Newt is not letting her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt fulfills his promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, it's a cute little scene where they play with creatures in the case.   
> Hope you like it!

Newt leans a foot against his shed, lovingly watching Tina, who is currently battling an armful of nifflers. Einstein is swinging on her hair, Curie has tucked herself on her shoulder and is eyeing her necklace greedily. Nobel is running up and down her arms, catching her scent in a way that rivals her fathers. And Darwin seems to be going to sleep in one of her sock. Tina has had to bend to their will, and is currently sitting cross-legged on the ground half-trying to keep control and half giggling. Newt has never seen a more perfect sight; the dazzling smile on her face, his creatures happily climbing all over her…

‘I want it to be like this for the rest of my life,’

The thought hits him like a train crash, and his foot slips off the wood and he stumbles a little, banging over a bucket. Tina looks up, mid laugh, trying to pull Nobel off Curie; as they are currently fighting over the prime spot, right next to her neck. 

“How do you keep these trouble makers under control?” she asks curiously, tugging Einstein out of her hair. 

Newt, (trying his best to keep his surprise behind his back), quickly hurries over to help her. He bends down (placing his present safely between his ankles) and offers the babies the temptation of a gold coin. Their beady eyes centre on the treasure greedily, like a vampire catching the whiff of blood. Newt flicks it away and the fluff-balls chase after it, as fast as racehorses. Tina raises an eyebrow at him. 

“You keep them under control by giving them the thing they most want?” she crosses her arms, shaking her head amusedly. 

“It works,” Newt shrugs, rubbing the back of his head, a little abashed “for a time,” 

“I mean perhaps for rewards it would be useful,” Tina ruminates, her brows furrowed in thought, “but maybe time-outs would be more effective for when they’ve been naughty? Or-“ Her eyes widen, and she looks away from him, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. 

Newt leans forward and takes her hand, more than a little confused at her sudden hesitance.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, and Tina tucks a piece of hand behind her ear. 

“I just…” She sighs, smiling tiredly, “you’re the expert, you’re pure magic with creatures, I shouldn’t butt in,” she squeezes his hand in what he can tell is an apology. 

Newt shakes his head incredulously. He bends down and kisses the back of her hand. When he looks up Tina’s eyes are wet. Darwin, having lost the fight for the gold coin, has crawled back over to them both. His little paw reaches up and scratches her pant leg. Tina’s face turns soft and wobbly, and she gathers up the baby and cups him against her chest. She tucks her chin against her chest to coo at him properly. Newt wraps an arm around her, his fingers pressing into her hip and he nuzzles her shoulder lovingly. ‘She’s going to be a brilliant mother,’ he thinks tenderly as she leans into him, smiling as the niffler snuggles into her chest.

The image of Tina, a baby boy in her arms, swoops into his mind. His tiny thumb placed sweetly in its mouth, as she introduces him to a hippogriff. He’d have her eyes, so brown they were black, and he’d smile and wave a pudgy fist at the feathered creature. And Tina would whisper in his ear, and kiss the top of his head. His head, which would be covered in a ginger halo… Newt pushes his daydream to the back of mind, and strokes a delicate finger down the snoozing nifflers back.

“Did you know, when I got home a few days ago,” he tells her, “I found the little buggers rummaging round my kitchen?” 

Tina giggles behind her hand, clearly not wanting to wake Darwin. Newt chuckles into her cheek.

“How?” she asks him breathlessly, her shoulders shaking. 

“They’re little escape artists,” Newt groans in defeat, “which is why I think your idea is such a good one,” 

Her shoulders halt their shuddering. 

“Really?” Tina’s voice sounds high and childish. Like a whistle in the wind. 

“Of course,” Newt says truthfully, massaging her hip. He looks over where the three remaining babies are squabbling over the coin, like children do over sweets, “they’re like any children, they need to be taught right and wrong,” 

Tina’s eyes are as wide as baubles, and she smiles at him helplessly. 

“Taught not to delve through my bed-room draws,” he mumbles wryly, and she gives a burst of a laugh through her nose, before leaning in a kissing him a tad too enthusiastically, and their foreheads crash together. Not that Newt minds. He doesn’t mind at all. In fact, all that is keeping him pressing firm against her is thought of a crushed niffler between them.

Tina eventually breaks away and disappointed whine a squeezes through his lips. However, she doesn’t move back: instead her fingers stroke his jaw lovingly. Newt, first caught between sinking tantalizing fire in her eyes, and letting his lids flutter close at her touch; finds he has no choice when Tina leans in once more to press a kiss to the side of his nose, then the top of his cheek, then above his eyebrow. Her assault is long and lingering, and he finds his hand mindlessly climbing up to her neck, and clinging to the short strands of her hair, keeping her in place. 

“You have so many freckles,” Tina mumbles into his skin and Newt hums in assent. 

“You have moles,” he says thoughtlessly, nails scratching into her scalp, “on your elbow, your ankles, your knees,”

Her lips fall clumsily on his chin, and for a moment Newt can feel the hot press of her tongue, before she steadies herself again. Newt tries desperately not to think about the other one he found. The one accidentally seen by a slip of judgement. 

Tina had been bending over the bucket with him, and they’d been talking about anything, everything: Newt’s past adventures, her old raids, his favourite creatures, her favourite spells. They didn’t have too much in common. Really they were night and day. But the passionate in which she talked, in pure outrage at every injustice…that echoed in his soul, and Newt found himself opening up, like a clam ready to reveal a pearl, asking more questions, storing away each new piece of information about her like gold in a treasure box. 

Every now and again he couldn’t help but to look, up, catch a glimpse of Tina… her creamy skin, her rare, sweet smiles. And Newt could feel her do the same, feel her eyes burn the back of his head as he rummaged in the mooncalf bucket, pretending as though his cheeks weren’t alight. But once, once he made a mistake. 

Merlin knows how it happened, but somewhere near Dougal and the mooncalves, Tina’s top shirt buttons, usually done up so perfectly had fallen undone. She didn’t seem to notice; Newt himself had shed his waistcoat and bow tie. He doesn’t think Tina gave a second thought when she herself bent over the bucket, brushing the two cumbersome pieces of fabric aside that made up her collar.

And that was the exact moment when Newt had looked up; he was quick to look away, but not quick enough. He saw. Her silky chemise, clearly worn with wash, her mother’s necklace buried between…well. And a mole, drawn into her skin, like a drop of ink on white parchment. Tina hadn’t noticed, but Newt, Newt had never forgotten. It was hard enough to forget when he was miles away across the ocean. But now, with her in his arms…

“How’d you know…” Tina whispers wondrously. 

“Last year,” Newt says sheepishly, drawing his fingers down her neck, relishing in her shiver, “I saw, I remembered,” 

Tina gapes at him, grasping Darwin tight to her chest. Newt reaches a hand down, patting the ground beside him, till he finally feels what he was searching for. He carefully draws out a copy of Fantastic beasts and where to find them, and presses it into her lap. Tina’s hand falls off his cheek to caress the cover gently. She gives a small sniff. 

“I remembered my promise,” Newt says firmly, and she leans into him her knees almost in his lap. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t wait,” she whispers into his shirt, “but I didn’t think you’d be coming back, and I just… I really wanted to read it,” Tina’s fingers wrap around the books spine, pulling it into her pelvis so hard it must’ve hurt. 

Newt presses a kiss into her hair.

“I’m glad,” he says truthfully, “I’m glad you did,” 

Darwin gives an indignant squeak, and they both jump. Tina places the struggling beast on her knees, and he sticks out a tiny tongue at the both of them, clearly upset at all of the commotion. 

“Sorry darling,” she apologises softly, and Newt swears the beast rolls his eyes. Tina laughs as Newt whispers ‘little bugger’ under his breath fondly.

“Look,” Tina points at his book, turning the disgruntled baby’s attention away from their poorly hidden mirth, “would’ve you like to read this with me?”

Every muscle in Newt’s body clenches as opens the book to a random page. Tina gasps, as the parchment is revealed to her. The normal book is there, his words clearly printed, with pretty illustrations to accompany, drawn in neat little boxes. But infused in the margins, ingrained in every nook and cranny is his messy writing. Quick notes written in his hand, to give the reader a larger picture of his world. Tina quickly flips through. Every page is covered, in tiny diagrams, handy hints. Newt sneaks a look down at her. Tina’s eyes are transfixed on the pages, and her mouth is moving along with the words he’s written.

“It’s my own personal copy,” Newt tells her, and her head whips up. 

“Newt,” Tina is almost crying, two points of red have appeared high on her cheeks, “I can’t take this, it must be so incredibly precious to you,” her hands are shaking where they   
stroke the pages, and she begins to push his book back towards him. He wraps his hands around her wrists, and Newt pushes it back.

“I want you to,” he says softly, “it’s yours,” 

Tina shakes her head reverently. She closes the book with a slam, and he feel her start to push it back in his direction again. But then she stops. Newt watches as she runs a delicate finger over the golden words that emblazoned on the front cover. Her words.

“Ours,” Tina looks up, her eyes strong and determined, “it’ll be ours,” 

Newt melts, meshing his nose into hers, grasping her hand where it rests on his life work. Ours. He likes the sound of that. More than likes. 

“I loved it,” she breathes. They’re so close Newt feels like he could hear the sound of her eyelids closing if he listened hard enough, “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you,”

“Really?” Newt asks, and he feels vibrations through his nose as she hums her assent. 

“I’ve read it about five times,” Tina admits timidly, “more probably,” Newt squeezes her hand, almost roughly, and she squeezes back. Her hands are just as smooth as he remembers. 

“You must be glad you have this limited addition then,” he quips and she laughs, a tiny burst of happiness. 

“I’m glad I’m sitting in the authors arms,” Tina’s thumb caresses the back of his hand. Newt can’t help but kiss her. 

“Did you know,” Newt says eventually, “I’ve already been asked to write a second addition,” 

Tina sits back in his arms and Newt looks down blushing. It’s the first time he’s told anyone, properly. Honestly the numbers in his bank account scare him a little, the way the goblins at Gringotts now treat him with reverence instead of pity. He doesn’t want to become the playboy in the eyes of the newspapers again. Merlin, his fame almost cost him his relationship with Tina! Yet, Newt wants the write. The feeling burns in his stomach, like hot coals on a fireplace. He has so much more to say. But he also knows that if he does the editors will pounce on his life again, exploit his every movement…

“That’s amazing Newt,” Tina gushes. His eyes flick up. She’s staring at him so proudly, so passionately that an intense wave of calm flows over him. She’s grinning, an ear to ear grin, one that he’s never seen from her before. He can’t help but smile back. Tina thinks it’s amazing. It’s all going to be okay. 

“I’m going to make some additions,” Newt says, his plans so long locked away, suddenly able to drip off his tongue, “our recent…adventure…made me realise I missed some creatures,”

“Like who?” Tina asks, intensely interested. 

“Well the Zouwu, for example,” Newt points to where the large sleeping cat is longing in his new habitat. 

Tina’s face softens as the creature yawns. Her fingers play nervously with his, and she bites her lip her eyes soft and anxious. 

“Can we,” Tina asks tentatively, “Can we go see?”

Newt tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. He watches as her eyes go hazy, and lets his fingers linger on her skin. 

“Love,” he says gently, “you never have to ask,” 

They jump up excitedly, like children. Tina is practically vibrating where she clings onto his arm. Newt he feels a strange sense of pride, as they walk through the habitats. He can see out of the corner of eye, how his beasts watch them walk past. 

Newt is the leader of his pack, he has to be, to prevent chaos erupting around him. Although his creatures are all wonderful, nothing changes the fact that some are carnivores and others are herbivores. And there’s only so much space he can put between them. There’s a reason his chest is littered in scars- when a couple of the larger alpha males and protective mothers got a little frisky. But mostly- though sometime he has to admit, through mere will- he’s stayed on top. But now, with Tina clutching him, their hands entwined together. He can see their furry and feathered heads incline has they pass, even the Nundu bows his spiny head. Newt’s chest fills with a sudden flurry of possessiveness, over them and over the woman beside him. He’s done it, fulfilled, in his creature’s view, the last piece missing in his leadership qualities for their pride. Showing them all he’s got a mate, a strong woman to stand by his side… he has a feeling that it’s going to become more easy to break up minor skirmishes from now on.

Newt presses his nose into her hair, and Tina squeezes his hand tightly, almost snuggling up into him. ‘I wonder’ a traitorous voice whispers in the back of his mind, one that would be appropriate to listen to in his bed late at night. But not now, not in the bright light of day. ‘I wonder what they’d do if she was pregnant,’. Newt’s eyes almost move themselves to settle themselves on the smooth, flat pane of her stomach. She’d look so beautiful, even more beautiful, with his pups inside her. Her petite frame, growing large and soft. What would the creatures do then? Maybe they’d start protecting her, or maybe… 

Newt starts out of his daydream, abruptly shaking his head. A hot sort of shame rolls over him. He bats down the beast that prowls in his stomach. They’ve been together, properly, for not even a day and he’s already imagining her pregnant. How pathetic is he? Tina might not even want children. 

Jamie, his newest hippogriff foal, gallops up to them both. Not even his mother whinnying angrily behind him, prevents the rascal from butting against Tina’s hand. She gingerly strokes the foal’s feathers, a small smile drawn on her face, and yet the line of her neck is as straight as an arrow and shuddering with tension. 

“Is this alright?” she asks Newt nervously, petting the cooing creature. 

He kisses the side of her cheek lovingly, inclining his head softly in the direction of his outraged mother. She, Alice, inclines her sharp claw, but her red glazed eyes linger anxiously on her off-spring. Newt can tell the hippogriff is embarrassed by her child's behaviour. And Tina’s hesitance is not helping matters. 

“Perfect,” Newt says hastily, and Tina’s grin widens thankfully, and she pats harder, smoothing down the foal’s feathers. His heart fills as she bends down to kiss Jamie’s beak, and the beast happily snorts and she giggles loudly. 

“He’s beautiful,” Tina gushes, and Alice throws back her head in thanks as Jamie preens. 

There is only love and kindness in his witch’s looks, and Newt hides a smile in her hair. She’s grown to be so good with them, especially the little ones. 

If only the stupid war didn’t exist, if only they hadn’t managed to get themselves wrapped up in Grindlewald’s business. Dumbledore’s business. He could get them a nice little place, in the country perhaps. They could live out their lives in peace, far away from the chaos. Newt leans his nose tiredly in the back of Tina’s neck, and she leans back into him. She smells exactly the same as she had all those nights ago in New York. Of ink and lavender. He sighs dejectedly. He had tried so hard to stay out of everything. And although he does not regret picking sides…surely it wouldn’t be hard to help, and yet not truly involve themselves? To break the blood pack, but not to fight? 

Newt watches the great cat lumber down from his perch, and Tina how wanders, seemingly almost spellbound, towards him. His fists clench into tightly and his blood runs cold at the thought of anything happening to her; at having to see her march off the war. Of her not coming back again. 

“Newt?” Tina calls, her happy face distorted into a worried one, “Are you alright?” 

He forces himself to smile and hurries to catch up with her. 

“Of course,” Newt says weakly. She casts him a disbelieving look, and places her hands on her hips. 

“Well no,” he admits slowly, and Tina’s hands fall to his and she clasps them gently. He can almost feel her giving nature seep into him, and calmness sinks into his bones against his will, “I was just thinking…” he trails off, pondering the passionate glint in her eyes. 

Tina would want to fight. Her honour, her gift of wanting to always do the right thing, her profession of an auror which would make her unfortunately far too qualified. Her hand is gripping him so tight, Newt is beginning to feel a tingle in his arm, of his circulation cutting out. His anxiety fizzles away in an instant. Tina may want to fight, but she’s also a mother tiger, deeply protective of her cubs. The upcoming war can’t happen for another ten years, perhaps even more. Surely, by that time (if he finally gathers up his courage), they could be married, have children. And Tina would never put anything before those she loves. Not even the Grindlewald. Newt’s sure of it.

He smiles, and to his relief it comes naturally. 

“Thinking about nothing that I need to be worried about now,” Newt tells her softly, and Tina kisses him lightly. 

“If you’re sure?” she says, when he pulls away for breath reluctantly. There’s still a disbelieving twitch in Tina’s lips. 

“I’m sure,” he consoles her swiftly, turning towards the waiting Zouwu, who is busy examining his claws in a bored like manner, “Now let’s go see…” Newt scrunches up his nose looking into the deep, dark eyes of the massive cat. Nope, nothing. He can’t think of a single name for him that fits. Tina, clearly sensing his train of thought, sits back on her heels deliberating. Newt watches as her eyes follow the constant swishing of the creature’s purple tail. 

“Prince,” she finally says softly, “A daring knight who saved us in our time of need,”

“Prince,” Newt says, tasting the name on his tongue. The Zouwu shakes his head in a pleased sort of way.

“It’s perfect,” Newt breathes, squeezing Tina’s hip thankfully, and she grins, “now, do you want to go for a ride?” 

Tina’s grin wobbles, and her eyes widen in clear shock. Newt smiles bemusedly at her.

“But I thought you said he can travel miles in a single bound,” her voice crackles slightly, but she still holds out her hand for Prince to sniff with ease. A pink tongue flicks out taste her fingers, and she scrunches up her nose in mirth. 

“Oh he can,” Newt says casually, also leaning in to pet the creatures soft fur. Prince delightedly leans in to his touch, butting his hand playfully, “so Tina, where would you like to go?” 

She turns to him incredulously. Newt watches as her nervousness sheds away to reveal pure excitement. She’s tingling beside him, and he can see the cogs turning behind eyes as she thinks frantically. Tina’s hands crawl up, to encircle his neck. Her soft fingers play with the short strands lying on the nape of his neck. Her touch feels like rain pattering on a roof top, and Newt can’t help but lean into the sensation. 

“Somewhere in England,” Tina says blissfully, “somewhere you love,” 

“London?” Newt asks teasingly, and she gives his hair a particularly sharp tug. Half of their letters contained his complaints about the city, with its cold stones and its dirty smog. The only reason he stayed there was first: his publisher. And then because the ministry was the only way he could possibly get back to Tina. 

“No,” She rolls her eyes abrasively, a wry smile tugging at her lips, “somewhere you actually like you dolt, from your childhood maybe,” 

Now it’s Newt’s turn to think. Somewhere he loves, somewhere he loves… Bright green grass, and sparkling waves, falls out of his memories. And Tina would look so beautiful, the salt wind whipping through her hair, her cheeks flushed a sweet pink. 

“I’ve got the perfect place,” Newt smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone liked it! Feel free to let me know what you think!  
> And yes, next chapter we'll be changing up locations a bit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Newt have a wild ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> Sorry it's been a while, but I hope everyone likes this chapter, as it's very cute. Though I'm sorry if I describe any scenery wrong. I am not from England so I'm basing my descriptions off google!   
> In any case, I hope everyone likes it!

The sound of four soft thuds hit Tina’s ears. She twists her head where it’s hidden in Newt’s shirt to blink into the bright gleam of the sun. What she sees makes her gasp in wonder. 

They’re landed gracefully on the edge of a towering cliff face. Grass, as green as glittering emeralds, flutters under Princes’ feet. But it’s not the foliage that causes Tina’s breath to catch in her throat. It’s the sea. The blue water is dancing, creating delicate crests, before smashing to shore. Every now and again bursts of foam spurt out from its depths.

“Oh,” Tina whispers, entranced. 

She’s seen the sea before. She took a steamer from American to England after all. Then from England to France. But that was deep dark water, that splashed cruelly against the ships iron. And all under a cloak of darkness. Tina had never seen how the sun shone into its depths, reflecting brightly on the living mirror. How it rolled gracefully, like a ballet dancer, leaving damp sand and slippery rocks in its wake. ‘The ocean,’ he thinks, wrapping her arms more firmly around Newt’s waist, ‘is playful, like a child, and yet dangerous like a god,’. Just like a creature, she realises with a jolt. No wonder this is Newt’s favourite place. Tina nuzzles her cheek into his back lovingly. 

“Do you like it?” Newt yells, his voice whistling through the salty wind. 

“I love it!” Tina shouts back truthfully. The wind is so fierce, it has already begun to crack her lips. But she smiles anyway regardless of the pain. Newt’s thighs flex where they rest against hers. 

“Do you mind letting Prince stretch his legs a bit?” He asks, excitement rolling off his tongue. 

Tina can feel the strong muscles of the massive cat roll beneath her. Anticipation coils in her stomach, and her grin grows even wider. Using Newt’s shoulders as leverage, she swings herself up to peck him clumsily on the cheek.

“Course’ not,” she whispers in his ear, and he laughs delightedly. 

“Hold on!” Newt replies and Tina knots her arms safety back around him again. 

“Yah!” The magizoologist calls, and his ankles accidentally scrape her own as the digs them into the Zouwu’s sides. 

Prince lets out a roar that shakes the ground beneath them. Then he accelerates and the country side falls away into a blur of green and blue. Tina bobs up and down, like a child on a see-saw, as the powerful creature throws them this way and that. The wind whips through her hair as though it was a hurricane, and it cuts at her cheeks as though it was a knife. Newt’s hoots and hollers echo on it. It’s sheer joy that’s pouring out of his mouth, and Tina lets herself get drunk on it as he pushes Prince to run faster, harder. 

At first it’s a tingle, just noticeable at the end of her fingers and toes. Then a balloon beginning to expand in her chest, slowly enlarging, pressing up against her ribs, elevating her off her seat. Finally, it bursts out of her mouth. Laughter. Glorious laughter. Wild laughter. Tina can’t remember the last time she felt this… free. Not since, not since her parents died. 12 years ago. It’s as if a boulder has been thrown off her shoulders by the strength of Princes’ strides. One of Newt’s clasps her own tightly as the creature finally slows to a stop. And then rolls it’s two humans off his back. 

“Ahh!” Tina squeaks, slipping down Prince’s fur and collapsing unceremoniously on the ground. She groans into the grass- she’d landed wrong on her knee and now it’s throbbing painfully. 

“Tina? Are you okay?” Newt asks frantically. Looking up she finds her magizoologist on his hands and knees beside her; his brows are furrowed anxiously and a streak of dirt has smudged itself on his nose. 

Dragging herself up on her elbows, Tina can’t help but kiss him. Adrenalin is still rushing through her veins, both from their wild ride and from the fact that she is now able to kiss Newt whenever she wants to. Tina would’ve laughed if his lips would let her. Who is she kidding? She’ll always want to kiss him. 

“That was amazing,” Tina exclaims earnestly, as they break apart. Newt’s rather sheepish expression, disappears into a beautiful smile, and as he helps her to her feet, his warm hand remains wrapped around his own. 

“Where are we?” She asks and distracted Newt, who is admiring Prince. The Zouwu is galloping across the grass, snapping at passing butterflies. 

“Dorset,” He replies reminiscently, a look on his face that tells of happy times, “It was where I grew up as a child,” 

He points at a large, sloping hill, bursting out from a bundle of trees in the distance. 

“That was where my family home used to be,” Newt sighs. Tina’s forehead crinkles. There is a distinct lack of house on that hill. He squeezes her hand, clearly sensing her confusion. 

“My Grandparents lived here, in the Scamander manor, and my father inherited it,” Newt pauses. Tina looks sideways to find him frowning, his constant nervous smile replaced by a furrowed brow, “and then Father decided Surrey would be better place for his sons to grow up,” he speaks with such bitterness that Tina winces. 

“Why Surrey?” she asks tentatively. Newt kicks the ground almost aggressively. Tina squeezes his shoulder hoping that the sympathy that’s currently flowing off her in waves, is somehow making its way into his skin.

“Because that’s where all the pureblood families come from,” Newt rolls his eyes so hard, it must have hurt, “Mother hated it, no space for the hippogriffs,” 

Tina can’t help but smile. She can just see a rascal of a red head, dragging feed over to a herd of winged beasts. Too busy following a familial looking red haired woman to notice the straw in his hair, and dirt imbedded on his knees. 

“It runs in the family then? Magizoology?” she asks, bumping her hip into his own, trying to lighten the mood. To her pleasure, Newt laughs. 

“I suppose so,” he cocks his head for a moment, then grins crookedly, “Scamander’s either smell of dung or manage to become a ‘careerist hypocrite’,” Newt gives her a cheeky peck on the cheek, to let her know his joke was in jest. Tina attempts to give him her darkest glare, but the sparkle in his eye and warmth of the sun turns her contempt into an amused smirk. 

“So at least I’ll fit right in then,” she says thoughtlessly. Newt’s smile freezes on his face. Her stomach gulps, and a hot blush burns on her cheeks, as he averts his gaze from her eyes to her feet. ‘Why did I say that?’ Tina thinks rapidly, biting down harshly on her tongue. Her hand feels cold and clammy where Newt’s is clamped around her own

“Yes, you will,” Newt replies softly, staring astutely at his feet.

Tina swallows, as her heart fills with something indescribable. ‘He wants me to be a part of his family. The Scamander’s’ 

Mrs Scamander?

A shining future where she could be called such, sneaks into her mind unannounced. A future with a home, a hearth, a family. Where this boulder-less feeling is normal, not a present for a sunny day. Where her smiles can flow freely, with her legs wrapped around the man in front of her. One of intimate looks stolen moments, over endless cups of tea, and creature’s heads. And a family. Tina bites her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. She’s always loved children, with their innocence, endless questions and toothy smiles. And Newt would be such a good father...  
She could come home each day, only to be jumped on my sticky fingered children, their heads whirling with stories of their father’s stories, and sparks on their fingertips. She’d cry the day they go off to school. She already feels slightly teary just thinking about it. As they waved good bye, beginning to start their lives, leaving her on the platform, helpless to do anything but watch. But it would be okay. Because she wouldn't be alone. Newt’s hand would be secured round her waist, his nose in the cove of her neck, assuring her it’ll only be a few months till they’ll be back for Christmas.

Tina blinks back tears, wrapping her arms around Newt’s necks, revelling in the way he wraps his own around her waist, clutching her to him tight. She sighs into his embrace, holding onto the warm feeling of hope that burns inside her. That future tastes of happiness. And Tina wants it. She wants it so badly. To share her life with Newt, the only man she’s ever…

But no. It’s not possible, At least, not yet.

Tina lugs her backpack of responsibilities back onto her weary shoulders. There’s too much to do. Wars to fight. People to save. How could they possibly make a life together on a battleground? That’s no place for peace, for love. And what about the children?

The image of tiny faces, their arms outstretched reaching for her, begging her to save them enters her mind. And Tina runs. She runs as if she has wings on her feet- her calves burn, and her breath comes in short, tight pants. She’s so close. She can see their messy red curls, their splashes of freckles. They look so much like their father. Tina’s a wings breath away. But then there's a flash of white hair, and a burst of green light. 

“Mama!” 

And they’re gone, reduced to a pile of dust. 

Tina buries her head into Newt’s collar, trying discreetly to wipe her hot tears on his shirt. He presses a sweet kiss on her shoulder. 

No. She refuses to let that happen. After they’ve won, after it’s over. Then they can build their life together. But first they have to make the world they inhabit safe.

Newt’s holding on to her so tight, Tina’s sure her ribs might crack. Surely he feels the same way? Despite his innocent awkward appearance, she knows underneath he’s got a will as strong as iron. A will that’s guaranteed to not want anything he loves hurt. How could he feel anything but horror about already having his creatures on the firing line? The thought of any of his fury, feathered, friends; Prince, Dougal, Pickett, being lost to that monster…Tina’s heart drums erratically against her chest.

No matter how hard they try, she knows someone is going to get hurt on the front lines. But they’ve got to try. Both of them. 

‘We’ve got to fight’, Tina thinks firmly. For Newt’s creatures, for their future. For this picturesque beach that Grindlewald will try to crush under his heel.

‘It truly is beautiful,’ Tina thinks, brushing aside her fears for a moment to take in the stunning view over Newt’s shoulder. Like a picture on a biscuit tin. The dancing waves, the shining sun, a prancing Prince…Wait. Tina pulls herself out of Newt’s arms to take a better look around. But all there is, is beach, sand and sky. 

“Where’s Prince?” she asks, her voice tinged with anxiety. 

Newt spins on his heel, his blissful expression morphing into a frown. He takes a deep sniff of air. Pauses, apparently considering something. Then, without warning, the Englishman flings himself down on the dirt, and begins almost army crawling away in the opposite direction. 

“Erm,” Tina says, confused but mostly endeared. This is clearly a Newt perfectly at home and in his element. Plus, she can see his muscles clearly twitching through his shirt. His pants tight around his arse. Mercy Lewis. 

“I’ve got his scent,” Newt calls over his shoulder, “come on!” 

Most people would’ve walked to where Newt had struggled. Or simply stood and stared at the sheer dubious nature of his actions. Tina was not most people. Instead she also fell into the grass, (though admittedly, not with the same grace as Newt), and wiggles vigorously to catch up with him, an earthy smell fully encapsulating her nostrils. 

Newt’s eyes are as round as baubles when she catches up to him, slightly puffed. In fact, his whole face seems to be open. His nostrils are flared, and his mouth is wide, creating the effect of wonder and surprise. 

“What?” Tina asks, spitting grass out of her mouth. 

Newt tucks his thumb under her chin and smiles. 

“Nothing,” he says gently, “just you,”

A warm fuzzy feeling blooms in Tina’s chest, as he concentrates back on his task, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe along a blade of grass. Then he crawls off slightly more east than they were traveling before. Tina hurries to follow him, multiple questions burning on the tip of her tongue. 

“How are you doing that?” she asks the red headed wolf hound. As Newt cocks his head, Tina can basically see two furry ears poking out of his head.

“Tracking?” Newt asks curiously, and Tina nods in acquiesce.

He stews on her question for a moment, leaving Tina plenty of time to get distracted by the knowledge that the grass under foot is the same colour as his eyes. 

“I suppose over the years I’ve catalogued them,” Newt says, twisting a dandelion between his fingers, “a creature’s smell, taste,” 

“Taste?” Tina asks curiously, the strange picture of Newt licking each of his beasts and writing each result in a detailed notebook entering her mind. 

“Yes,” Newt agrees, “it’s like different types of chocolate, generally they taste the same, but there are subtle differences…”

She leans forward on her elbows, intensely intrigued. But Newt ducks his head, and out of her line of sight. His fingers have dug themselves tight into the dirt, and the line of his back is tense. Tina worries at her lip, watching, waiting.

“You for example,” Newt mumbles, his neck brushed a light pink, “smell like ink and lavender,”   
Tina wraps her pinky around his own, hoping he can’t feel her hand shaking. 

“And?” she breathes. 

He looks up. His eyes are now the colour of the sea- dark and stormy. 

“Sweet, you taste sweet,” Newt says softly, gazing up at her through his eyelashes.   
Tina watches transfixed as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. 

“Can you,” Tina swallows roughly. Her voice sounds as though it has been dragged over sand paper, “can you teach me?” 

Newt coughs out a nervous laugh from deep in his chest. It stutters between them, barely making a dent in the clear tension in the air. 

“Of course,” Newt says, shuffling closer to her. Tina watches as his Adams apple bobs, as he leans over their joined hands taking a deep sniff of the dirt, “Prince still has a hint of iron about him, from his chains,” he explains and Tina leans in too. But not into the grass. 

Instead her nose bumps into the soft skin of Newt’s neck. His skin is a perfect blur, because of how close she is, but she can still just manage to pinpoint the mess of freckles that mark his skin. Tina inhales. 

“Old parchment and something musty,” she announces to her audience, trying her best to ignore something hot that’s coiling in her stomach. Because Newt smells good. Very good. Are people supposed to smell so…attractive? 

“Tina,” Newt croaks and she can feel how his throat rises and falls with each shaky breath. 

She considers. And then Tina licks him, her tongue pressing on his skin. A strong hand cups the back of her neck, and Newt draws her up and off him. His eyes have graduated from dark to black, only a thin ring of green ornaments his pupils. His fingers are firm where they hold her head up and Tina’s nerves stir with anticipation. He looks dangerous. Beast like. There’s red mark, glistening on his neck. Her mark. Tina’s clenches her jaw. Something she’s never felt before claws in her chest, tossing it's head proudly. ‘Mine,’ it whispers. 

“So?” Newt asks his voice nothing more than a grumble, “what do I taste like?” 

Tina’s lips unstick with a soft pop. He tastes like dirt. Like the earth. He tastes wild, like the smell of rain in the air, just after it’s poured. 

“Good,” Tina murmurs, and Newt’s fingers clench in her hair.

“C’mere,” he growls, and she meets him willingly. 

Everything it hot, and humid- as if it’s a steamy summer day, instead of a cool autumn one. Newt presses her gently into the grass, but kisses her with everything he has, almost attacking her in his ferocity. Tina’s just as bad, pawing at his shirt and dragging him on top of her.

“Merlin, Tina,” Newt pants in her ear, as they separate to breath, “you’re incredible,”

“You’re magic,” she whispers back, as he nibbles at her ear, “you’re-“, she opens her eyes. 

“Ahh!” Tina screams. The large shaggy head of Prince is leaning over them, head cocked, clearly bemused by his human’s behaviour. 

“Tina, look!” Newt says incredulously, picking himself off her and patting the Zouwu proudly, "oh, well done Prince," 

Tina sits up, rearranging her shirt where it had pulled itself out of her trousers. Bewildered she looks around. A house sits only a few metres away from them. Browned bricked, with two chimneys sitting at either end of the roof and a red front door, it's paint flaky with age. Most of its windows are cracked, and ivy has crawled over the building making it it’s home. But it has the distinct looked of being loved once upon a time. And of being able to be loved still. 

“It’s our old gardeners house,” Newt cries happily. Tina blinks. The house is reasonably large, much larger than any house she’s ever lived in. If this is the gardeners home, what does the Scamander family manor look like? 

“Gardeners?” Tina asks squeakily. 

“Yes,” Newt breaths, a wide smile blown across his face, “I thought father had sold it off,” 

He’s so clearly pleased that she can’t help but smile as well, brushing her insecurities aside. Tina casts two quick spells. 

“It’s been well warded,” she stands as well, brushing dirt off her knees, “and no one’s here,” 

“It’s been so long,” Newt says wondrously, as she presses her chin to his shoulder, “Theseus and I, well I shouldn’t say really, little devils we were,” 

“How about you show me?” Tina asks, gesturing to the slightly cracked open door. 

“Why Miss Goldstein,” Newt says, mock demurely, “are you suggesting we break in?”

“It’s hardly breaking in if you own the place,” Tina rolls her eyes, amused. 

“True,” he shrugs, grinning, “come on then,”

And the pair lead the way into the cottage, Prince padding softly behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tina and Newt seem to have very different ideas of how they should deal with their future responsibilities don't they....  
> Hope you liked it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret meeting and an interruption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I hope everyone enjoys this new chapter, it's kinda setting things up for the future...This fic is turning out to be much longer than I thought it was going to be!  
> Hope everyone likes it!
> 
> P.S the start of this fic is based on the interview where Katherine calls herself a magical corgi.

“Hurry up!” Newt calls over his shoulder, his long legs easily stretching up one of the many Hogwart’s staircases.

“I have short legs!” Tina yells back, sounding utterly aggravated by his ability to leave her in the dust.

“We’re the same height, love,” Newt says, puffed up with the success of being first to the top of the landing. 

“I have a long torso,” Tina huffs, kicking the final banister in frustration, and wincing in clear pain. 

Newt tries to raises a sympathetic eyebrow, but he cannot stop himself from swinging his case jovially between them. Tina, acting all of her 26 years, gives him a dirty look and turns on her heel, marching quickly down the hallway to Dumbledore’s office. He races after her, chuckling heartily all the while. His feisty Salamander.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a sore loser?” he asks conversationally, after he’s finally managed to match her strides. Tina winces, and her fists clench into tight balls. Newt grins- he can just imagine a prim and proper little girl, with two neat braids wanting to win every task she’s commissioned with. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible winner?” she shoots back, as a certain office finally materialises in front of them. 

Tina steps forward, her back as straight and tense as an arrow, to rap sharply on the door. He can imagine her face perfectly, although he can’t see it. Her dark eyes would be flashing, her mouth set into an angry line. Although she’s just as beautiful upset, as she is normally, Newt hates to see her this way. (And though he can’t confess full responsibility for their lateness- he can admit he’s always been unperturbed about being on time to gatherings, especially Dumbledore’s. Tina however…well she’s Tina). Reaching out he strokes two gentle fingers down her arm, delighting in her clear shiver. 

However, when she spins to face him, her face is still a storm cloud. 

“What?” Tina spits, her anger flying off her in sparks, two stern hands placed firmly on her hips. 

Newt ducks his head, smiling softly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re beautiful?” he asks her earnestly. 

He watches lovingly as her wall of fury cracks apart, leaving only Tina, her defenceless shell underneath. There she is. The woman she hides beneath her intense looks and frowns. A woman who lets herself blush, who let’s two sweet dimples catch on her cheeks. It’s the woman he’s fallen for.   
They smile helplessly at each other, and Newt can’t help but notice her lips are still bruised red from their afternoon’s…activities. They had spent a glorious afternoon exploring the old cottage, raiding every inch finding old butterbeers in a mouldy closet and endless spider webs in the forgotten attic. Newt had relayed old stories from his boyhood years; encouraged by Tina’s attentive listening and endless questions, from her spot on the floor where she was curled up with Prince like two lazy cats. Eventually he’d joined her, legs entwined together, and they’d talked, and kissed, talked and kissed, watching the sun go down. Then he’d remembered the meeting.

Tina has taken his hand, and is currently playing with his fingers. He can see her doe-like eyes locking in on all the scars that scatter his skin. She had already asked about the adventurous tales that were behind each one, which Newt had told them willingly to his rapt audience. He’d never met a person before who wanted to listen so intently to what he had to say before. And Tina didn’t want anything in return for her diligence- like his help or his love. No, she was just intensely and honestly interested in him. It made Newt want to escape from his hole of loneliness that he’s dug for himself for years. To climb out and sink into her, to always keep her by his side.

Creak. 

“Nice of you two to turn up,” Newt spins to find Theseus scowling at him, (well both of them, but mostly him), “more things are at stake than your happiness brother,” 

Newt inwardly seethes, brotherly contempt welling up inside of him. Eight years apart was too many for Theseus and he to truly connect. He loves him, he does. But he can’t help but feel he plays the part of a second father at times- wishing to command instead of understand. And despite the fact they’re now on an equal field playing- both adults, no longer teenage and child- Newt begins to bend his head in deference. 

“Oh shut up Mr Scamander, it was my fault too,” Tina snaps. He can see her straighten her shoulders out of the corner of his eye, and he feels the flick of her trouser leg against his own as she takes a step in front of him. A smile tugs at his lips as she stares flummoxed Theseus down. 

“Since you’re now snogging my brother Miss Goldstein,” Theseus sighs, admitting defeat from Tina’s thunderous glare, “I suppose you should call me Theseus,” he holds out a hand, complete with a wry smile. Tina takes it, shaking it once, firmly. 

“I’ll think about it,” she says, mirth echoing in her voice. The beast in Newt’s chest roars with amusement at Theseus’ shocked expression. He hides his face behind Tina’s hair to hide his laughter 

“Ahh family, our greatest friends and our greatest foes,” a fanciful voice calls dreamily from behind them. Poking his head round Tina frame Newt finds the peaceful shape of Dumbledore. His hands are resting serenely on the rooms large table: his eyes are sparkling. 

The blood pack is glinting dangerously by his breast. 

Theseus stalks away and slumps himself next to the headmaster’s side. The rest of their friends are there to, sat together like the knights of the round table. Jacob’s grinning like the Cheshire cat. He’s mouthing something enthusiastically in his direction. Newt has never been good at lip-reading, but he can make out the word ‘kiss’ being silently said excitedly. Unable to prevent his happiness, Newt nods, leaning over Tina and kissing her cheek softly. 

“Yes!” Jacob whoops, throwing up his arms up in the air. 

Tina shakes her head, her hair tickling Newt’s nose. But she’s grinning, from ear to ear. And it's only after they’ve sat down and Dumbledore begins speaking, does she place her serious face back on again. 

The meeting goes on and on, til the sky outside fades from pink, to purple, to black. Newt only listens to snatches. He’s too busy thinking about the fact he’s late for his creatures nightly feed, and leaning in to the warm touch of Tina’s leg where it’s pressed up against his own. Especially when the entirety of their almost two-hour get-together proves they know nothing. They may have a contact there, they might have to steal this here. By the sounds of things, they’re not even going to make it to Rio- the seemingly final destination of their adventures- for two or three years or more. Newt is honestly finding it hard not to ask to be excused and escape into the comforts of his case. 

“Apparently there are five surveillance spots” Dumbledore says. He had pushed himself up and out of his seat and had begun pacing a good ten minutes ago. Newt swears he can see the smoke rising up from the mark he’s burning into his periwinkle carpet, “and all of them seem to contain some sort of ‘weapon’,”

“What kind of weapon?” Tina asks intently, leaning her elbows on the desk.  
Dumbledore shrugs his shoulders in a tired manner. There’s dark smudges of black draped under his eyes.

“No idea,” he sighs, gripping the back of his chair so tightly that Newt’s rather afraid the wood will snap, “all my informants are able to gather is that they’re small, compact, pliant and incredibly powerful,” 

“Pliant?” Nagini mumbles from her chair that she’s coiled in, “what does that mean?” 

Newt doesn’t get to hear Dumbledore’s regretful reply. Instead he’s bombarded over by Theseus and Tina, who are in the middle of having a furious whispered conversation over the top of him. 

“You can’t write everything down,” Tina rears up like a runespoor going in for the kill, her eyes flashing, “what if someone finds it?” she points so energetically, that Newt could hear the bright snapping sound of her wrist cracking. 

Theseus covers a piece of paper he’s been scribbling on with a prim hand. Newt can see a faint blush on his cheeks; he’s wearing the same peevish expression Newt remembers from his childhood. The day when mother took away his favourite broomstick.

“I hope you’re not suggesting I would just leave this lying around Miss Goldstein,” Theseus challenges, crossing his arms over his chest. His auror stance. It's made more than one person grow faint with fear. But Tina merely raises her eyebrows in distain, looking thoroughly unimpressed. 

“I’m suggesting a future where you might not have a choice,” she retorts matter-of-factly. 

Newt clamps a hand on Tina’s thigh, as Theseus turns away fuming. She leans her head on his shoulder. 

“I’m right,” Tina mumbles into his shirt.

There’s no words to describe what Newt is feeling. He’s happy. He’s amused. He’s proud. He’ll always be proud of her; he’s helpless to the fact that his incredibly witch has somehow chosen him to stand beside. To be on his side. He’s never had someone on his side before. He’s always had to be on someone else's.  
It's nice. Tina snuggles further into him, her cheek rubbing softly on his shoulder. More than nice. 

Rather lost for words, Newt is unable to do anything but massage her thigh gently- his fingers pressing in, rubbing in soft circles, pulling at the fabric of her pants. He listens with a reference to her shaky breaths. Tina may have the boldness to take his brother down a peg, but in things like this she’s as innocent as a lamb. Her eyes are like molten lava as she blinks slowly at him. The beast in his chest growls as her eyelids flutter shut; as his ministrations get harder, deeper. It’s like the entire room has disappeared, and all Newt can see is Tina. The deep red blush that’s coating her collar bones. The way she’s concentrating so hard on breathing; in her nose and out her mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” her murmurs, and she smiles, joy lighting up her face.

“Oi!” Theseus squawks, breaking the spell. 

Newt turns to find his brother quickly pouring his cup of tea over his smouldering notes, which had clearly just burst into flames. 

“Opps,” Tina gulps audibly, wincing at the pile of wet rubble. 

Theseus’s hackles rise, and he almost elevates out of his chair with the force of his anger. 

“How dare-“ he begins.

“How did you?” Newt interrupts, his eyebrows pulling together almost painfully by the strength of his curiosity. One of Tina’s hands is supporting her chin. The other has enclosed itself around his own where it still rests on her leg. Her wand lies lifelessly on the table, a good distance from her fingertips. Tina blushes, ducking her head. 

“Sometimes I’m able to, I can’t control it,” she offers Theseus an apologetic look as she plays with Newt’s fingers self-consciously. 

Newt blinks. He knew she was good at her job; with quick reflexes and brilliant spell work. But just how bloody powerful is she?

He’s not the only person who has noticed. 

“Wandless?” Dumbledore asks, only looking slightly interested as he takes a light sip of tea. But Newt knows better. He’s been on the receiving end of being something that the great wizard wants more than once. He can see the hungry glint in his eye. Newt shuffles his chair closer to Tina's protectively.

“Yes,” Tina says humbly, “but it only happens when I’m in a-er- emotional state,” she looks down at their enclosed hands nervously, and her legs begins to jingle. Jacob chortles loudly beside them, not even trying to hide his sniggers. Yusuf crosses his legs in a dignified manner, and looks between them both pointedly. ‘Emotional state?’ Newt remembers how her mouth was soft and open, how she leaned into his touch. Oh. Now it’s his turn to blush, his cheeks hot and heavy.

Dumbledore’s face is a blank slate, devoid of emotion. 

“I suppose you’ll be okay with taking the first patrol, Miss Goldstein?” He asks, almost casually, “to one of Grindlewald’s bases?” 

Tina’s hand falls off his own, and he feels the loss immediately. 

“Of course,” she says breathlessly, her voice coated in determination, “I’ll do anything, nothing is more important,”” 

Newt starts, and he stares at her in disbelief. She’s leaning forward, giving Dumbledore the entirety of her attention. Tina’s clear eagerness sews a thread of doubt into Newt’s mind. ‘Nothing is more important’. But surely she doesn’t believe that. That fighting Grindlewald is that most important thing. What about them finally being together? Surely that doesn’t come second best to the darkest wizard this century? Or does that just make him incredibly, incredibly selfish? 

Grimacing, Newt becomes awash with uncertainty. It’s Tina’s job he knows, to fight this fight. ‘I would never take that away from her’, Newt thinks resolutely, ‘her job is so important to her,’ Yet the idea of her saying no, of her wanting to say out of this horrid business makes him sag with relief. 

‘She shouldn’t go,’ the beast inside him howls in misery, ‘she can’t go, we can’t let her, don’t let her!’ Newt involuntarily squeezes her thigh, hard, and Tina gives a small yelp. Her impassioned face, turns to clear worry as she takes in what must be a cascade of emotions across his face. She reaches up to cup his cheek. Newt tries to swallows the bile that keeps trying to rise up his throat. 

“Newt,” Tina whispers gently, “are you okay?” 

“Tina,” Newt says hoarsely, “do you truly believe-?”

“Aha!” The group spins to find a moustached professor pointing round that them all self-importantly, “I knew it!” 

“Sorry, Dumbledore,” the frantic Scottish voice of his old teacher, Professor McGonagall, cries over the man’s shoulder, “I tried to stop him!” 

The other man leans arrogantly against the wall. Newt hears Tina’s breath catch anxiously in her throat. 

“What’s going on here then?” he smirks, grinning round at them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who has crashed the party?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Hi again. I told myself I wouldn't post anything until after my exams are over, but I'm just too excited. This is going to be the longest story I've ever written and I'm just so excited to share it with you all. So I'll update hopefully each week and hopefully everyone enjoys!  
> This chapter is the beginning into the epic adventure that's going to come (though it probably won't seem like it!)  
> It involves a sneaky dumbledore, the cuteness that is Newt and Tina and a beginnings of a new friendship.  
> Special thanks to Bellarsam_Chrisjulittle: If you ever read this, your comment on my last chapter really made me re-think where I was going with the next few chapters and with Theseus's and Tina's relationship, and 100 percent made my story better, so thank you so much!  
> 

A cold shiver runs through Tina’s spine. A million possible backstories rush through her mind, each as useless as the last. The man wasn’t even doing anything wrong- why shouldn’t a professor be curious about six adult strangers seemingly having broken into a school to have a meeting in the late hours of the evening? It was a Tuesday night for Circe’s sake. If Tina listens hard enough she can hear the hustle and bustle of students moving down below- probably making their way up to their dorms. 

Newt has slipped down in his chair- his head pressed against her collar- like a rabbit darting into his hole. He is busy looking determinedly out the window. Tina rubs his shoulder gently, and Newt nestles thankfully into her. She makes a mental note to ask him what was bothering him so much a moment ago. Newt had looked as though he was going to be sick, his usual tanned skin a pale green. But it’s going to have to wait until they get out of this jam. 

“Yes, Professor Diggory?” Dumbledore ask calmly, twiddling his thumbs. 

“I was just wondering if I have an invitation to this little party,” Diggory asks, stroking his moustache in a jovial manner. He looks harmless- a bit self-important perhaps, but he smiles around at them all friendly. He reminds Tina of a puppy who’s busy banging his tail hard on the floor, wet tongue hanging floppily out his mouth. But she still wraps a casual hand around the hilt of her wand, letting a thread of magic run through her fingers in preparation. A puppy’s teeth are sharper than any dogs. 

“Unfortunately this party has just come to an end,” Dumbledore claps his hands together, “although feel free to join us,”

Tina feels Jacob tense up beside her. Her hands clench up in tight balls, her nails digging painfully into her skin. Were no-maj’s allowed on Hogwart’s grounds?

“No thank you Albus,” Diggory studies his nails studiously, “I’m afraid I was just on my way to Headmaster Dippet’s office and I would hate to keep him waiting,” Newt groans low in his chest, and the grumble vibrates through Tina’s ribs. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you,” Dumbledore smiles at him genteelly, “Although would you mind if I joined you? I also have a meeting with Dippet tonight,” 

The suspicion on Diggory’s face is deep enough to cut into. However, his face is gracious, and he holds out his hand in an ‘after you’ gesture. Dumbledore stands calmly, taking  
great care to brush invisible pieces of lint off his pants, and heave on his blazer. Tina watches the façade in disbelief, her muscles tense; unable to relax. 

“Minerva,” Dumbledore says calmly to the stone faced red haired witch, “Perhaps you should continue with your rounds? Goodness knows how many students are taking advantage of your absence,”

“Of course Albus,” The witch replies tight-lipped and sweeps out of the room, her back as straight as an arrow. 

The great wizard then turns to face the little group, his eyes like steel as he meets each of their eyes. ‘It’s like he’s trying to tell us something,’ Tina thinks desperately as Dumbledore’s gaze meets hers, “but what?’ She hangs her head in defeat. It could’ve met anything from attack, to try to escape. Social intricacies, especially no-verbal ones, have never been her strong suit. Newt isn’t even looking at the wizard, his gaze fixed determinedly on his knees, and she can tell by Jacob’s posture that he’s too afraid to move, let alone speak up. But luckily for them, one person in their group is. 

“Do you mind if some of us come along, Dumbledore?” Theseus asks causally, standing and also sweeping his coat up onto his shoulders, “I myself haven’t seen Dippet in years, and I’m sure our American friends wouldn’t mind an introduction,” 

Dumbledore gives him a short, thankful bow. 

“Of course not Theseus,” He replies smoothly, “They’re the reason I’m dragging myself up there after all,” He winks playfully at them all before sweeping out of the room, leaving Diggory to stumble out behind him- all the puppy's confidence left lying hopelessly on the floor. 

Tina feels all the breath fall free of Newt as he sits back in relief. Jacob, in contrast, falls forward, his head collapsed in his arms. Theseus spins round, rolling his eyes, his lips pressed into a tight smile.

“Don’t relax now,” He warns, “Some of us had better follow,” 

“I’ll come,” Tina says, sliding out of her chair. She feels Newt tense up beside her and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. 

“You should go feed everyone,” Tina gives Newt her best ‘everything’s fine’ smile. He returns with a ‘merlin we’re screwed’ grimace.

“Perhaps Jacob and Nagini should join you,” Theseus says firmly, as Tina gathers her things, looking much more calm. Though she thinks she catches flashes of anxious static hidden behind his eyes. 

Nagini nods thankfully- the maledictus clearly feels safer without the chance of running into a pride of pureblooded children. Tina doesn’t blame her, she’s been involved in many horrific cases involving those with blood curses than she cares to think about. 

“I’ll stay too,” Yusuf says, placing a protective hand over the woman’s shoulders, a clear tick in his jaw. Tina smiles as Nagini blushes. It would seem that her and Newt aren’t the only pair beginning a burgeoning relationship. 

A strong hand wraps around her own, and holds tight. Tina looks down. Newt is seemingly absentmindedly playing with the latches on his case- opening and closing them repetitively. But his eyes are soft and scared as they flit around her face, and he’s gripping her so tightly she’s afraid her bones will crack. Biting her lip, Tina leans down and brushes a kiss on the side of her mouth. 

“I’ll be back soon,” she promises, “I’m sure Dumbledore will have something planned,”

Newt sighs and leans his forehead against her own.

“I know,” he mumbles. 

“Come on, Miss Goldstein,” Theseus says gruffly from behind them, “we don’t want to get left behind,” 

Theseus marches out of the room and Tina follows quickly, Newt’s hand falling through her fingertips. Dumbledore and Mr Diggory keep a fast pace, and Theseus too walks quickly, head bowed, clearly knowing these halls like the back of his hand. Tina almost treads against his heels, stalking alongside like a child follows its mother.

At Ilvermony the halls are open, with enormous windows that almost reach the ceiling. First years learn their way around by various landmarks outside and the direction of the sun. Tina, ever diligent, had found her way round in a week, and prided herself on never having to ask a prefect for help. At Hogwarts there were no windows, only stone and their shadows which creep up the walls. She gets lost in the endless corridors and moving staircases. Tina’s pretty sure at one point they walked through a wall, instead of a door.

The two professors chat jovially- Dumbledore has his arm round Diggory’s shoulder, his blue eyes flashing in the candle light. The aurors walk in silence. Even when Theseus holds the door open for her- a door Tina could’ve sworn wasn’t there before- he does so with a simple nod. 

Dumbledore has led them to a room, covered in mirrors and dotted with fireplaces. Squishy couches of red and blue are scattered around haphazardly. As are many tables where certain bottles of liquid and elegant glasses sit. Tina and Theseus look at each other in shared confusion, as Dumbledore leads a reluctant Diggory over to a chair. 

“This isn’t Dippit’s office, Dumbledore,” The professor scolds bluntly, sitting delicately on the padded arm of one of the chairs. Dumbledore however has seated himself comfortably, leaned back to a horizontal point in his seat, fully relaxed. 

"I thought we could have a drink before hand," The professor says, waving his wand, letting the glasses fill themselves. Diggory gazes at the amber like apprehensively, but Dumbledore presses the cup into his hands, "Come on Diggory, just the one, it is Ogdens 1904 after all," 

"It is?" Diggory asks, clearly thrilled and taking a large gulp, as Dumbledore smiles innocently behind his glass. 

“Did you know Dumbledore’s plan was to get him drunk?” Tina whispers to Theseus. She had meant her voice to be cheerier than it came, and her stern tone causes the wizard to turn away from her. 

“No I didn’t,” Theseus critiques her loudly. So loudly in fact that Diggory turns towards them. To where the door is. Dumbledore quickly grabs the man’s attention again, but not before casting the aurors a quick glare. Theseus however clearly didn’t notice the warning, and she can see out of the corner of her eye the way his chest expands, ready to burst again.

“Look, Mr Scamander, not here,” Tina slushes him hastily, her eyes bouncing round the room, looking frantically for a closet. 

Thankfully, almost by magic, one appears and she tugs Theseus towards it. Dumbledore has managed to fully distract the now giggling Mr Diggory, and Tina shuts the door behind them- almost- in full knowledge that they won't be disturbed. 

“Look,” she says to the shadow that must be Theseus, “I can tell you don’t like me, Mr Scamander,”

Sharp dull thuds shake the walls of the cupboard as the wizard taps his foot erratically. 

“I like you fine, Miss Goldstein,” He huffs, “it’s just-“ 

He trails off. Tina places her hands on her hips.

“It’s just what?” She asks defensively. 

This seems to make Theseus even more irritated, and she can almost see the dangerous flash of his eyes in the darkness. 

“It’s just,” Theseus’s chest puffs up like a blowfish and Tina steady’s herself for an explosion, her blood as cool as ice. But then, to her surprise, he suddenly deflates like a balloon- his shoulders falling in on themselves, his chin pressed against his chest. 

“I know it makes me a prat,” He says, his voice low and unsteady, “but I can’t help feel… jealous, I suppose, of Newt and you,” 

Tina stares, her blood freezing to stone. Theseus takes a shuddering breath, clearly taking her silence for judgement. 

“I know it’s stupid, he’s my brother, I should be happy he’s happy, but,” He sniffs, blinking hard, “I was happy too, a few days ago,” 

Tina shuts her eyes, horrified regret flowing over her in debilitating waves. How could she be so damn insensitive? Theseus only lost Leta a few days ago- his fiancé, his future wife. Tina had lost her sister, yes. But she’s not dead. Queenie’s just chosen the wrong path. And Tina going to get her back. She bites her lip to the point of pain, looking at the defeated auror in front of her, feeling about three feet tall. You can’t bring back the dead. 

“Mercy Lewis, Theseus,” She whispers, distraught, “I’m so, so sorry,” 

“So now I’m Theseus,” He mumbles humourlessly. Tina grits her teeth. 

“I wasn’t trying to be a ‘prat’ either,” She says stiffly, the British word strange on her tongue. 

“Are you sure?” Theseus asks lightly, and Tina shifts her arms uncomfortably round her chest. She doesn’t want to lie to him, but she also doesn’t want to break Newt’s trust. And she definitely doesn’t want to cause a rift between the two brothers. 

“Newt told me about you in our letters you see,” Tina begins tentatively and Theseus’s head whips up, “And he didn’t always give you the best report,” She winces at his hurt expression. 

“Right,” Theseus says softly with a hint of futility. 

“He loves you Theseus,” Tina rushes to tell him honestly, “But I know he also thinks you find him a bit…” 

“Odd?” He throws up his hands in clear despair. 

“Useless,” Tina finishes for him awkwardly. 

Now Theseus is the one to look up in fear. He stammers at her incredulous, and for the first time Tina sees a hint of the younger in the elder. Theseus runs at shaky hand through his hair, pulling at it so hard it must be hurting his scalp. 

“I don’t think he’s useless,” He spits harshly, “I just wish…just sometimes… he tried to be more normal,” 

A list biting insults sit on the tip of Tina’s tongue, but she keeps them down, knowing to speak up would do not any of them any good. Theseus is wringing his hands, clearly distressed. 

“I see the way people laugh, snigger at him, and I hate it,” Tina nods at his passion, feeling her own anger burn to the surface that the image of it, “If he only acted like everyone else he wouldn’t be put through it,” He kicks out fiercely and the walls vibrate around them. 

Theseus’s head hangs again, and for a moment all Tina sees is a young boy trying to look out for an even younger brother. Just like she did with Queenie. And for both older siblings all they seemed to do is push their younger kin further away from them. 

“You’re a good big brother, you’re trying to do right thing and it’s coming from the heart” Tina whispers quietly, “But I don’t think Newt will ever not be himself,” Theseus chuckles tiredly, nodding shrewdly.

“You might be right there, Miss Goldstein,” He shakes his head reminiscently, a small smile on his face. Tina holds out her hand. 

“Call me Tina,” She says apologetically. 

Theseus takes her hand and his grip is firm and true. It’s an auror handshake, one that she’s shared with many co-workers. It’s not practically special, just three quick squeezes in a quick pattern. But it’s used to check identification in times of discreetness, and they both grin at each other. 

“Speaking of Newt,” He smirks, raising his eyebrows at her, “How did my free-spirit of a brother fall for a straight laced auror?” 

“I’m not so straight laced,” Tina protests, smacking his hand playfully away, “you were the one in Paris with your ministry, I snuck off on my own,”

Theseus blinks at her in disbelief, his eyebrows now fulling disappearing into his hairline. 

“You went by yourself?” He asks dumbfounded, “Why?” Tina shrugs humbly. 

“I promised Credence I would protect him,” She says simply, her eyes downcast, “and I failed, I failed the first time, I failed this time and I failed my sister,” 

“And I failed to protect Leta,” Theseus smiles grimly, “what a great pair of aurors we are,” 

They stare at each other, both lost in should have beens, what has been, regrets and nightmares. Yet there’s a spark between them, one of hope and new beginnings. Tina looks around the floor of the wardrobe and to her surprise sees exactly what she was looking for. A few dusty cups, and a few bottles of what could only be liquor. She shoves two glasses in Theseus’s hands, while uncorking a bottle ungraciously with her teeth. Tina pours them both generous amounts, and he passes hers over gently. 

“To Leta,” Tina says, raising her glass a little. Theseus inclines his head in thanks before draining his glass. 

“To Queenie,” He says back, and now it’s her turn to drink deeply, the harsh liquid burns her throat to ashes. Theseus takes the bottle from her, filling up their flagons again. They might be even fuller than before, but the more rational part of Tina’s mind has disappeared with her overwhelming mix of emotions and the flame of alcohol. 

“To Credence,” Tina croaks and once again empties her cup, willingly letting a deep buzz fill her brain and numb her senses. 

“To friendship,” Theseus says, clinking his full cup to Tina’s empty one and she smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some drinks, and some dancing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!   
> This chapter involves some tipsy people, some dancing and a secret room and I hope everyone likes it!   
> This is one of the chapters where you might have to read a my story 'a mating dance' to get some of the references. But it should make sense without it, so don't worry if you don't!

“There, try this,” Jacob says, pressing a cup into Newt’s hands. He stares down at the amber liquid hesitantly, before taking a tiny sip. He scrunches up his nose, as a bitter taste coats his tongue. 

“Merlin,” He sticks out his tongue in disgust, “I don’t see why I can’t have a butter-beer or a cocoa,” 

It’s the third combination he’s tried, and none of them have been to his taste. Tina and Theseus have long since moved away from his workbench, their fire-whiskey and elfish wine safe in their grasp. They are now talking amicably on the steps, just below Frank’s empty habitat. Something must have happened in the hour they were with Dumbledore, for both the auror’s defensives are now broken, and they’re happily exchanging stories of old raids and dangerous arrests. 

They had crawled into Newt’s case slightly tipsy, carrying an array of bottles under their arms, and are now even more so. Newt wouldn’t call them drunk- but Theseus’s arm movements are a little too extravagant, and Tina is actually giggling, two points of red sitting high up on her cheeks. Yusuf and Nagini had said their goodnights, but Jacob begun to eagerly join them, and is already two drinks down. Newt wants to stay. It’s been so long that he’s had a good night with both people and his creatures for company. But alcohol, even the magical kind, has never much agreed with him. 

“You can if you want,” Jacob says kindly, slapping him on the back, “But sorry pal, I’m not staying round to boil a kettle,” 

The muggle bounds over and collapses next to Tina, just in time to hear a particularly bawdy joke of Theseus’s that causes him to laugh loudly, and Tina to shake her head. She bites her lip to prevent a smile growing on her lips, looking up and catches Newt's eye. Her own brown pools are light and bubbly- fire on dark water indeed. Newt can practically see the sparks bouncing off them as she grins at him, and he can’t help but smile back, happiness flowing off him in waves. 

He’s finally got what he wanted. What he's wanted ever since he boarded the steamer in New York. An un-obliviated Jacob, and Tina by his side again. His brother…is his brother, and no matter how much of a pain in the arse Theseus is at times, Newt will always love him.   
Queenie’s betrayal and Leta’s death will always sting painfully, but for now, at least the four of them can be together and be happy. 

Newt finds his legs moving towards the group, and he seats himself between Tina and Jacob. 

“Bugger,” He mumbles under his breath, as he catches his cup just before liquid slops over the edge and onto his trousers. It’s still alcohol. He looks over at his shed in longingly, at the exact place he knows where the tea bags are hidden. 

Delicate fingers wrap around his thigh, causing Newt’s muscles to clench deliciously. Tina smile is a smooth as butter as he looks at her. Her hand is higher than he thinks she would have normally dared sober, and she is gently massaging his leg through his pants fabric. Newt bites down on the inside of his cheek hard, as he tries his best not to fully succumb to the glorious feeling. 

“Are you alright?” Tina asks gently, as her thumb rubbing slow, soft circles. 

“Fine,” Newt says breathlessly, sounding anything but, his throat as dry as ice. 

Her eyebrows pull together, but she turns away when Theseus needs her opinion on dueling. Though her hand remains firmly planted on his leg. 

“A-hem,” Jacob says loudly, clearing his throat. Newt turns towards the muggle to find his chest raised up dramatically, ready to say something important. 

“I’d like to say something,” The American says proudly, and the other two quieten down, giving him their full attention. 

“A year ago I never thought I’d know such good people,” Jacob says passionately, as he smiles round at them all, “let alone ones that can do spells and this,” he rams his elbow in jest into Newt’s ribs, and gestures round at the amass of his case, and the cawing and braying of the creatures surrounding them. 

“And even though I could do without the bad things,” his face is suddenly sober, his normal jovial face ashen with sadness. Newt pats his friends shoulder sympathetically, and Jacob gives him a thankful nod, shaking away his sorrow to smile again, “The bad things could’ve never happened without the good things,” 

“To good drinks, to good friends,” Jacob raises his glass tremendously. Newt thinks it’s a tribute to his constitution that no liquid spills down his front, “To family!” the muggle booms, an enormous grin split across his red cheeks. 

“To family!” The witch and wizards cheer and they crush their cups together clumpsily. 

Tina laughs heartily as her fire whiskey dresses her wrist. Newt presses his nose against her check, the sound music to his ears. The other men look astounded at the two dimples that her smile brings out in her face, and it makes Newt glad that they finally see what he sees. A woman, who’s kindness shines out of her face like the sun. He kisses her sticky wrist and she giggles before pushing him away good naturedly. Tina seems to be watching for his brother’s reaction for some reason, and Theseus gives her a small smile before downing his glass in one. He bounds to his feet energetically, almost causing Newt to collapse into Jacob like a domino, as Tina slams into him. 

“Music!” The male auror cries, waving his wand with a flourish. A record player appears from thin air and starts spinning out an up-beat tune. It’s not to Newt’s taste, but beside him Jacob’s foot is jingling in time with the beat, and Tina claps her hands together with delight. Noting her excitement, Theseus gives Newt a rouge wink, before bowing gracefully. 

“Miss Goldstein,” He says genteelly, “would you do me the honour?”

Tina beams, but before she can accept Jacob butts in. 

“Tina wouldn’t dance,” He guffaws, batting Theseus’s hand out of the way. Newt gives his best friend a stern look as Tina frowns. Newt remembers the way Jacob had described her as ‘intense’ back in Paris, and how true that often is. But he also remembers a woman dressed in moonlight, that snuck back home late at night and trussed him up like a turkey. He remembers her soft ankle pressed up against his own, and the look in her eyes as they spun around together their fingers intertwined. 

“Yes she would,” Newt says softly, and places Tina’s hand into his brothers. Tina smiles softly at him, before letting Theseus pull her up. 

Newt watches in pride as Tina dances beautifully, as he knew she would. She dances with the passion that runs in her veins, and he watches her with darkened eyes as she spins and turns. He secretly wishes to push Theseus out of the way and take her in his arms, but knows he could never do her justice if he did. Jacob is clapping vigorously to the beat, immersed, his elbows on his knees. But Newt leans back in his seat, drinking deep from his glass, watching as Tina’s cheeks flush pink with exertion, and the way her mouth comes undone slightly as she breaths. She’s gorgeous, and wonderful and his. 

“Oi, Theseus,” Jacob also drains his glass, awkwardly getting to his feet and offering the wizard a clumsy bow, “want to give me a whirl?’ 

Theseus laughs heartily, letting Tina go with a gentlemanly kiss on the back of her hand, before offering Jacob his own. Tina giggles helplessly as the two men begin to waltz extravagantly, and Newt buries his face in his hands in his mirth, before standing and joining her. The music has changed from a quick, jolting beat to something more slow and languid. Jacob leads a demure Theseus around the room with skill and ease. Newt watches them grinning before holding out his hand to Tina. 

“Would you like to dance?” He asks her tentatively. It has never been his forte- Newt prefers playing music than dancing to it. But his waltz isn’t the worst, and Tina is apt enough to lead him. 

But to his surprise Tina’s hand doesn’t slip into his. Instead she smiles shyly, moving back a view paces and bowing at the waist. Like a thunderbird. Newt blinks as a rush of memories fall back to him. To a New York night. Where he showed off his prowess. When they danced a mating dance. 

Awestruck Newt bows back, and then they weave their fingers together, bobbing round in a circle. 

“You remember,” He says breathlessly, and Tina nods a slight blush staining her cheeks. 

“I’ll never forget,” She says softly. 

Newt inches his way up her forearm, caressing the skin beneath her shirt. He wants-needs to be close to her. Tina’s fingers flex against on his forearms and her thumb strokes his arm gently. She stares out into the distance, looking at something Newt cannot see. 

“I was a thunderbird a school,” She admits out of the blue,” Did I ever tell you that?” 

“I think I vaguely remember,” Newt says slowly. She had hardly talked about herself in her letters- clearly more comfortable discussing, her work, Credence and Queenie. She had wanted to know all about him; his creatures, his passions, his life, and these questions about him only left Newt with a smattering of her. He lapped each piece up desperately, clutching them to his heart. That she loves rain, hates cheese and that her mother’s necklace is her most precious possession. 

Tina turns back to him. They’ve unconsciously moved closer and her shoulder bumps his own as they turn slowly. 

“When you said you’d show me a thunderbird mating dance,” Tina says quietly, her voice warm and liquid, “I couldn’t believe it,” Her eyes are wide and bright and she plays nervily with her bottom lip. 

“We had only known each other for a moment,” She says, letting her hair fall across her eyes, “But it felt as if…well…you probably didn’t…it’s stupid,” Tina’s fumbling as badly as he does. Newt wonders absentmindedly how much alcohol it would take for her to speak freely about her feelings. Luckily he understands her perfectly. Newt brushes the hair away from Tina’s face. Her blush has taken over her cheeks and her eyes are wary. 

“You’d only known me for a week,” She mumbles quietly, “I’m not assuming that you felt anything,”

Newt stops their spinning carefully. They are now face to face, but Tina’s eyes are directed at the ground. He leans in and rubs their noses gently together. 

“You assumed right,” Newt tells Tina softly, to her clear astonishment. 

“Really?” She asks her voice high and childish. 

“I wanted,” Newt’s courage leaves him. But Tina’s eyes are wondrous in her joy and he finds he can’t help but continue, “I wanted to perform the best mating dance, one that would ‘seduce you' i suppose,” Now it’s his gaze that drops to the floor. 

Tina’s arms wrap around his neck and she strokes his hair softly causing ripples to run down his spine. 

“It worked,” She whispers, a smile in her voice.

“Did it?” Newt asks, half playful, half serious. Tina nods and her lips rub over his cheek softly. 

“I thought you were handsome for the moment I saw you, and as I got to know you I saw that you were incredible,” Tina says and Newt smiles stupidly. ‘Handsome and incredible,’ The creature in his chest preens. 

“But when you danced for me,” Tina shakes her head, an equally silly grin on her face, “I just knew,” She winds one of her hands down and presses it against her chest. Right over her heart. 

“I knew I should’ve kissed you then,” Newt mumbles, and Tina’s hand drops to her side in shock. 

“You wanted to kiss me,” It’s not a question. It instead it’s like she’s talking to herself, her voice light, like she’s about to break into song. Tina’s eyes are shinning, and her smile is so wide Newt believes it’s about to split her cheeks in two. He chuckles delightedly at her joy, pressing a kiss to her hair line. 

“Yes I did,” He says lovingly, “very much,” 

“Oh shit,” A voice cries out before dissolving into laughter. 

Newt breaks away from Tina’s arms to find Theseus groaning where he's collapsed on Jacobs legs, while the Muggle lays spread eagled on his back, laughing so hard he’s almost in tears. They must have tried some complicated lift, but either alcohol or gravity (or most likely a mix of both) have caused them to topple over. 

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina shakes her head, covering her mouth to hide her giggles.

“Come with me,” Newt whispers in her ear. Tina smiles and wraps her arm around his own, leaning close to him. He leads her into his shed, leaving Theseus and Jacob where they’re laughing heartily. 

His shed is less exciting than when Tina last saw it. Being at home meant that Newt didn’t have to carry his life around in his case. Most of his vials and plants had been moved to his basement. This meant the red book on his shelf, War and Peace, stands out without the fray. 

“Where are you bringing me?” Tina asks in a mock whisper, stumbling a little as Newt moves to the hidden volume.

Newt drags the books down, a little too hard, the alcohol musing his senses. But the trap door still opens and the ladder still unravels. He climbs slowly up a few steps, before turning, the rope he’s hanging on swinging perilously. Tina is gazing up at him, her beautiful eyes as large as baubles. He grins a wobbly grin, and continues his climb. He can feel the ropes strain as she joins his ascent, but his shed is not particularly tall and he reaches the top before they can snap.   
Newt stands and quickly surveys the attic, making sure there’s nothing too embarrassing lying about. Nodding, satisfied, he leans down to pull Tina up. 

“Oh Newt,” She gasps, looking around the tiny room. 

There’s nothing too incredible really. The only pieces of furniture are a hefty hammock, and an old butterbeer box holding a candle and a collection of letters. But the walls are covered in various pictures and drawings from his travels. The papers don't have room to breathe, and vivid drawings of dragon eggs mix between moving pictures of unforgiving alps. 

Tina’s jaw is droopy, and her hand is weak in his own as she gazes round in wonder. Newt squeezes her tight, whipping out his wand from his pocket. 

“You haven’t even seen the best part,” He murmurs in her ear, waving a spell at the ceiling that almost bumps against their heads. Almost immediately it unfolds like a book, sliding away to reveal the magical sky that twinkles with millions of stars overhead. 

Newt watches with her reaction with heavy eyes. It’s that face. The one of pure wonder, and joy that he wanted to see. It’s the same one he saw when he released Frank, when she rang Prince’s cat toy and the creature listen to the call. The stars reflect in her eyes, and for a moment she’s his universe.   
She cups his cheek and kisses him deeply. 

“You are incredible Newt Scamander,” Tina says softly, stroking his jaw, “how are you so wonderful?” 

“Genetics,” Newt quips with a grin, and she hits him gently, smiling with her tongue between her teeth. 

“I’m being serious,” She says, but her voice contains laughter, and Newt nods teasingly, pushing into her, forcing her walk backwards. 

“So am I,” He says, placing one hand on his chest with a mock hurt expression, “one might even say I’m ‘fantastic’,” 

“That was awful,” Tina groans at the pun, and he chuckles, pressing closer.

“Ah, but you love it,” Newt pretends to lean in seeing the perfect opportunity as her eyes flutter close. Suddenly, without warning, he tips her, and she falls with a heap onto the hammock. Newt leaps after her, as quick as a cat, his normally single lying place, feeling wonderfully less roomy. 

“Newt,” She says dizzily, trying to sit up. But his weight, the drink and the fluid nature of the fabric means she falls straight back down again, her dark hair mused over her face. Newt pushes the strands gently out of the way, and she blinks at him, her long eyelashes brushing her rosy cheeks. 

“Stay,” He says unwittingly, his voice no more than a rumble, like gentle thunder, “stay here, sleep with me, please,” 

Tina looks down, frightened at where their pelvises shift together. Cursing himself, Newt hastens to ease her fears.   
“Not that,” He says quickly, and she visibly relaxes, her cheeks a vivid red, “just to sleep Tina,” 

He tucks a thumb under her chin studying her reaction. Tina sucks on the inside of her cheek for a moment. Then she shimmy's down and presses her head against his chest, her hands resting like soft petals on his hip bones. Newt lets out a thankful sigh, and presses a kiss to her forehead. 

They stay silent for a while, the hammock trying it’s best to rock them into oblivion. Newt can see it’s spell is working on Tina. Her eyelids flutter and she hides a soft yawn in his shirt. He however, has never felt more awake. How could he sleep now? Tina is here, in his arms. And in his arms she will stay. How many nights had he laid up here, only her letters for company, wishing she was with him? Newt slides his fingers through her hair gently, and Tina smiles up at him, her dimples two sweet half-moons on the sides of her cheeks. 

“My salamander,” He mumbles lovingly, and her eyes fill with tears. Tina bends down and kisses his chest, just above his heart. 

“Newt,” She whispers, her voice heavy and tired. 

“Yes?” Newt answers softly. 

“Would you tell me a story,” Tina looks up at him. Her fingers draw slow circles on his abdomen, and for a moment he has to concentrate on breathing, “about you and your creatures,” 

Newt smiles. He’d written to her about a few of his adventure, and her replies had come back, filled to the brim with curious questions and breathless exclamations. She truly loves to listen to him, and Newt doesn’t think he will ever get enough. Many stories bubble to the surface of his mind. But Tina’s face is pale and sleepy and he highly doubts her persistence to last through one. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather sleep, Tina?” He asks carefully. Her eyebrows furrow adorably. 

“No,” Tina says stubbornly, as she stifles a yawn behind the back of one hand. 

“If you’re sure then,” Newt says amused, and Tina, clearly content settles down in his arms again like a lazy kneazle. 

He begins- a short story, about one of his exploits in Australia; about testing the strength of billywig stings. But the simple yarn is too long for even Tina’s determined resistance, and sooner rather than later, she falls into the arms of sleep. Newt can’t deny he helps her along a bit, his touch feather light as he massages his fingers across her scalp. He stays up a bit longer, thinking… well about everything. But it’s hard to linger on such horrible thoughts, horrible thoughts that just can’t be true. Not while Tina is real, warm and beautiful and wrapped around him. And eventually Newt drifts off too, his lips in her hair, her heart in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,  
> This chapter... It's where everything that's been simmering under the surface comes to the boil. And yeah, the first few chapters have definitely been the calm before the storm. But this is also where the adventure starts, so I hope everyone likes it.

Tina wakes to the sun burning behind her eyelids. She quickly throws off the blankets, her skin hot and itchy in the morning light. Yawning, she stretches out before swinging her legs out of the hammock, her feet settling against the wooden floor boards. Tina has been left alone in the attic, but the jovial whistling she can hear outside the walls of the shed informs her Newt hasn’t roamed far. 

Smiling, Tina clambers down the ladder and into the workshop. Large and small buckets with large lumps of meat or cuttings of strange bauble shaped flower heads clutter the floor. A kettle begins to whistle cheerfully in a forgotten corner. Tina peers outside the door to see Newt pointing in wand haphazardly towards the shed. He doesn’t even look her way, his attention fully caught by the graphorn babies galloping around his feet, and he tucks his wand safety behind his ear again. 

The youngest of the tentacled creatures catches her leaning in the doorway and bounds towards her excitedly, almost knocking Newt to the ground. Tina races out to meet him, giggling helplessly as sticky tentacles wrap around her wrists in greeting. 

“Hello sweetling,” She laughs heartily, bending down to greet him properly. 

“Come on George,” Newt sighs dotingly, the smell of uncooked meat envelopes her nostrils as he moves closer, “I know Tina is tempting, but you need breakfast,” 

The graphorn reluctantly pulls itself away; but perks up at the juicy piece of meat Newt is holding, racing away as fast as he came to chase his breakfast as the wizard launches it away. It lands with a gloopy plop, and George is on it instantly, devouring the steak ravenously. Newt shakes his head lovingly, before holding out a hand to her. Tina takes it and he tugs her up. Now nose to nose with each other, she notices a smudge of dirt near the corner of his eye. 

“You’ve got something,” Tina says gently, wiping it away gently with the base of her thumb. She feels Newt’s cheeks heat up underneath her touch, his eyes loose and wobbly and Tina melts. She leans in and kisses him lightly.

“Good morning,” She whispers happily as she pulls away. 

“Yes, yes it is,” Newt mumbles dazedly, and Tina giggles. 

“You’re making tea?” She asks, as they turn together to walk back into his shed, the buckets held in Newt’s hands now empty. 

“Yes,” Newt answers, placing the used buckets under the workbench before reaching up to a cupboard and taking out two miss-matched cups, “Do you want one?” 

“Uh, uh,” Tina chastises him, sweeping the mugs out of his hands, “you’ve been working, I’ll do it,” 

Newt acquiesces, with a simple nod and soft smile, flopping down thankfully into an empty chair. Tina turns towards the now boiled kettle, humming under her breath. 

“You could’ve woken me you know,” She says trying her best to fill the mugs equally. The liquid inside is already, mercifully, a dark brown colour, and Tina inwardly sighs in relief that she doesn’t have to try and inevitably fail at making it how he likes it. Tina passes him the yellow mugs, keeping the dark blue one for herself. Newt presses it up against his chest like he’s using it for warmth and she leans up against a bookcase, blowing a cascade of steam away from her boiling cup.

“You just look so peaceful,” Newt says with a twist of his lips, “It’s my job to feed the creatures, not yours,”

“I’ll still always want to help you,” Tina tells him truthfully and he looks at her like she’s a creature he’s just discovered. Newt hides his awestruck expression in his cup to Tina’s soft amusement, and she raises hers as well, taking a small sip. 

“Where are Jacob and Theseus?” She asks eventually, after several seconds of love-struck eye contact. Newt rolls his eyes, sniggering into his cup. 

“Passed out up stairs probably,” He chuckles helplessly, his shoulders shaking mercilessly, “You should’ve heard their grandiose attempts to get out of here,” 

“Mercy Lewis,” Tina shakes her head, her mind wandering to weird and hilarious places, “how much longer did you stay up after I conked it?” She asks giggling, taking a long drink of steaming hot tea. Tina has always liked tea, Queenie being the cocoa lover. But in New York loving tea is in direct contrast of being a traitor, and cocoa is her best bet for not being stared at incredulously. She loves finally being in a country where having tea in one’s cupboard is the rule, not the exception. Newt is also drinking deeply, his face content and she feels a twang of pride of being able to make a cup he loves. 

“A while,” He says raising his eyebrows over the mugs rim, “My companion loss consciousness quite quickly you see,” 

“What were you doing all that time?” Tina asks, tongue in cheek. Newt smirks at her for a second. 

But then his face grows strangely grave, his mouth settling into a serious line. He runs a finger along the edge of his cup and refuses to meet her eye. 

“Tina,” He asks quietly, so quietly in fact that she has to strain to hear it, “Did you mean what you said yesterday?” 

Tina stares, stunned for a moment. She wracks her brains, but is unable to remember anything she’d said that would to cause such serious pondering. 

“What?” She asks him, truly confused. 

“About Grindlewald,” Newt says, his voice just as suddenly serious as before, “About ‘nothing being more important’” 

“Of course.” She states completely unhesitatingly. But Tina grows concerned at the way Newt’s face crumples. She kneels down next to him, placing her cup on the floor gently. 

She takes his hand in hers but his eyes still lie trailed on his knees. 

“But don’t you feel that way too?” Tina asks slowly. 

She hates how timid her voice sounds. Newt’s eyes are unreadable and his posture guarded. Tina swallows her shock and it leaves a sour taste on her mouth. She knows they never really lie on the same page with each other. Like a moon and a star, they’re two different people, with different ideals. They’re still two different people who care deeply about one another. But fighting this war. Fighting evil. Tina had never thought he wouldn’t agree with her.  
She never even thought she’d have to ask. 

“What do you feel then?” Tina asks, her sarcasm tight and blunt as Newt turns his shoulder away from her. His fingers are sweaty where they grasp her own tightly, “that we should stay out of this? Run away like cowards?” 

Newt does look at her then. And his eyes are as hard and as sharp as she’s ever seen them. Tina sets her jaw, refusing to look away.

“Why would running away cause us to be cowards?” He states defiantly. His words cut into the small smidge of hope still lingering in Tina’s heart, “why can’t our support be enough?” 

Tina would’ve have laughed if the tone of their conversation hadn’t grown so grim. The beasts outside have grown quiet. Her feet squeak loudly on the floor as she re-adjusts herself. The sound is ugly in the poignant silence. 

“Why can’t our support be enough?” Tina hisses like a snake, her eyes narrowing, “Newt, Grindlewald has my sister and Credence. He killed your oldest friend, he wants to destroy everything we love,” 

Newt tries to avert his eyes again, but Tina cups his cheek, bringing him back to her. 

“We can’t just stand by and do nothing,” She says hotly, “we have to do our part,” 

“Do our part,” Newt scoffs coldly, his hot breath harsh on her face, “And what if doing our part gets us killed?” 

He might as well have slapped her. Tina’s hand falls from his face, and her arm flops to her side. 

“So we should let millions of others die in our place?” She spits, her eyebrows raised in defence. 

Newt’s hand is like iron around her own. He goes to take a sip of tea again, but his fingers shake badly, that hot liquid splatters on his knee and he winces. Softening at his pain, Tina leans down pressing her lips to the damp patch of fabric. Immediately it dries under her touch, and she hears his small sigh of relief. 

Tina takes the empty cup from Newt’s hands gently, standing with the thought of getting him another. His fingers slip through her grasp, like water through a sieve. Newt’s hand lands with a dull thud on his knees. 

“We’ve got plenty of time to debate this,” Tina says lightly, her smile cracked at the edges, “In the meantime,” She turns once again to the kettle. 

“You’d put duty over our relationship,” Newt says sullenly from behind her. Tina chokes on air, spinning to face him, hurt tears stinging at her eyes. 

“Excuse me?” She whispers dangerous, her hand clenched almost to the point of pain around the mugs handle. Newt refuses to answer, his gaze firmly directed at her collarbone. 

“Newt I want to be with you so much it hurts,” Tina cries. She takes a deep breath, her teeth gashing at her bottom lip, “But I have to fight first, I thought you’d understand that,” 

Newt does look at her then. His eyes are round and red. 

“Are you telling me,” He asks her stiffly, “That you don’t want us to be together until after this war is done?” 

“No,” Tina swears firmly.

But then the thought of Newt, with two children wrapped around his legs as he reads a jet black envelope- tear gushing down his face. The children stare up at him innocently, not understanding that their father’s tears are from them now not having a mother. 

“Yes,” She hears herself whimper. 

Newt stands violently, knocking down her mug where it stands, breaking it in two. The tea washes over his boots. He walks towards her, somehow looking taller than usual and Tina cowers under the heat in his gaze. 

“You’d rather be stuck in some bloody trench, with only a cold steel gun for company,” He’s almost shouting at her, his face red and broken, “Than have a home, a life with me,” 

“That’s not what I’m saying, Newt, please,” Tina cracks, and her sobs shake the air. Tina’s shoulders shake violently as she cries, gasping in great gulps of air and his cup drops to he floor with a crash. Newt gathers her in his arms, his touch soft and gentle. He rests his forehead heavily against her own. For a moment they breath together as one. Tina slowly calms down and Newt’s fingers press into her hips, almost as if he’s rooting himself to her. His lips brush hers gently for a moment, and Tina kisses him back. She’ll always kiss him back. 

“Just think of it Tina,” He whispers fervently, his words stumbling over each other in his haste, “A home in the country, you, me, the creatures,” He pauses awkwardly, his words stuttering in his throat. One of this thumbs gently massages her abdomen. Tina gasps as her stomach drops to her toes at his ministrations. Newt’s eyes are as dark as moss as they bore into her own.

“It would be so perfect,” He mumbles, nodding deliriously, “We would be so happy,” 

Tina shuts her eyes, letting her imagination take hold. For a moment she lets herself float away in the beautiful daydream. But then reality sinks in again, her anxieties pulling her back, it’s rope tight around her throat. 

“He’d find us, Grindlewald, he’d never let us live,” Tina babbles, tugging at Newt’s collar incessantly, her hopelessness overcoming her, “He’d kill them Newt, the children, the creatures, I couldn’t bear it, don’t make me bear it,” 

Newt almost shakes her, his fingers now tight around her waist. He’s crying too, his tears flowing down his cheeks. But when he speaks again his voice is strong and true. For a moment he’s a lion reborn. 

“I would never let that happen Tina,” He growls, cupping her cheek, “I’ll keep you all safe, I promise,” 

Tina trembles in his arms. She wants this, she wants him so badly. That life he described…That’s more than she could’ve ever have hoped for. She thought she was going to die alone, successful in her career, a loving aunt and sister, but alone. But to be a wife, a mother as well as a auror? All her deepest dreams would be coming true. Not to mention with Newt, the kindest, most incredible, most passionate person she’s ever met, and who has somehow come to care for her. He’s smiling down at her. Tina can’t bring herself to smile back.

For something is eating away at her soul. To give up her promise. To protect Credence. To get Queenie back. To turn her head at the future horrors that are sure to come her fellow workmates and innocents alike. Could she really do that? Go against her instincts to protect them? To stand back as others fought and died, as she did nothing by the sidelines? 

Tina sighs, leaning into Newt’s soft fingers. 

Then she pulls away. 

“I want to be with you,” Tina sniffs, her voice crackles pitifully. 

Newt’s eyes widen in horror as he realises her intention. His fingers grasp for her, tugging on her forearms desperately. Tina shakes her head restlessly as he whispers incoherently. No clear words leave his lips. But the fear that has taken over his entire being cuts her heart in two, as she forces herself to pry his hands off her. His touch has left red marks in her skin, and Tina cradles her arms to her chest. 

Newt gives her, her space. Because of course he does. Despite his clear torment, Newt takes a step backwards. It’s this that causes Tina to cry again. He’s so good. He doesn’t deserve her. Maybe this is for the best. But then why does it feel like part of her is rotting away? 

“Then be with me,” Newt begs her. He’s shuddering where he stands, like a leaf in the wind. Tina wishes more than anything in the world to take him in her arms again. To kiss him, comfort him, promise him she’ll never march off to war. To drag him back up into the attic or out into the case, to spend their morning in peaceful bliss. Exchanging banter and kisses, listening to his impassioned voice as his creatures climb all over her. 

“I can’t,” Tina croaks, and she runs out of the shed, her feet as fast as light.

She stumbles blindly, her tears obscuring her vision, but her hands guide her to her goal. Eventually she falls into soft fur, and Tina quickly mounts her ride, holding onto for dear life. 

“Take me away Prince,” She sobs into his mane, “somewhere, anywhere, please just get me out of here,” 

She doesn’t want to see Newt’s heartbreak. Tina doesn’t want to see anything ever again. She keeps her eyes shut tight as the Zouwu rears up and gallops into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I did cry while writing this. And editing it. And as I re-read it before I posted it here.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince runs and Tina cries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,   
> Hope everyone enjoys this chapter. It reveals some things and also begins some new mysteries!

Prince has been running for miles. The forest he’s racing through is nothing like Tina has ever seen- Not in America, England or France. Each trunk is as large as a giant’s fist and each one stretches to the sky. 

Everything is green. Not the dehydrated green of sun-burnt grass or the bluey-green of Dorset’s sea. This is a true green. Mysterious and deep. It almost shrouds them as they leap under branches and through bushes. 

Hot tears burn Tina’s cheeks and she wipes them shamelessly on Princes fur. 

Newt’s eyes are green. She’d never met anyone with eyes like that before. The first time she looked into them, they were soft and sheepish. The last time…they were wet and destroyed. What would he look like when she sees him again? Will Tina ever see him again? Will he ever want her to? A sob breaks through her throat, tearing at her vocal cords. 

Her last words to him already cause shame to boil in her stomach. ‘But I will fight,’ Tina winds her fingers tightly into Prince’s fur, and he runs faster, harder, the landscape turning into a blur. 

“I have to, I want to,” The words spit out of her lips in a jumbled mess. Tina’s tears fall harder, faster, obscuring her vision. Helping people, saving people. It’s who she is. Why would she not fight on the side of good against evil? Why would she want to hide herself away, and pretend the oncoming war doesn’t exist? 

And does the fact that Newt doesn’t understand that, mean that maybe they’re not even supposed to be together? 

At that last thought Tina almost begins to hyperventilate. Her breaths come out in short, sharp, pants, and her sounds of indescribable misery rattle the leaves in the trees surrounding her. 

She could not even imagine it. Not being with Newt. Not now, that she’s just gotten the first taste of what it would be like. Having his warm arms around her. His sweet smile always just in of reach. To see him and his creatures everyday…it had been less than a week, but Tina’s heart already ached at the knowledge she might never... 

“I’ve ruined everything,” Tina croaks, gripping her mother’s necklace tightly. 

Queenie would’ve never put aside love for duty. Queenie put love before everything. Her mother had always told Tina she was special- one in a million. She can still remember her proud smile, her joy whenever her Mama had seen her do childish magic. Tina, from five-years-old had been able to organise her toy blocks, tie her shoes in perfect bows, and rock her new baby sister in her crib- all from a mere thought. Her Aunty had been horrified when she’d seen it- raging about secrecy and Rapport’s law. But Elizabeth Goldstein had paid no mind, kissing her eldest daughter’s cheek softly. 

One of the few memories Tina has left of her, swims into her memories again.   
‘You’re strong Porpentina,’ Her mother was the only one who’d ever called her that. It was her Grandmothers name, and she always spoke the four syllables with a reverence, like they were magic itself, ‘you’re strong and brave, don’t let anyone tell you different, and you’re going to great things, I just know it,’ And that is what 

Tina had tried to grow up to be. An auror- the strongest and bravest of them all. But maybe Newt deserved something else. Someone like Queenie. Someone willing to put all of that aside just to be with him. 

Tina crunches her teeth to the point of pain, awash with self-loathing, remembering the pain and hurt that shone in his eyes from her words. Newt does deserve someone better than her. 

Smoke billows out from behind the treetops, as Prince finally slows to a stop. The Zouwu trots into a picturesque country village. A sign proudly states its name, but it’s something Tina has no hope pronouncing let alone understanding what it says. 

“Where have you brought me Prince?” Tina whispers, pulling her wand out of her pocket and holding it tight in hand, eyes sweeping the scenery. 

Neat houses sit all in a row, vines and roses twist up each door. It’s a cold morning, and every fireplace seems to be burning merrily. But no one is inside. Tina knows this because the entirety of villages population seems to be lined up in a procession outside the church at the very edge of their little town. Or at least all the grown-ups. No little girls or boys are holding on tightly to their parent’s hands. Tina looks up into a upstairs window, tall astride Prince’s back. She just catches glimpses of little faces peering out, only to duck out of sight when she tries to look more closely. 

“Careful, careful,” Tina pulls softly on Prince’s fur as he continues to prowl forward at the same speed. 

She can see no clear signs of magic, not that that means it's not there. But Tina doesn’t know many witches and wizards who would feel safe at seeing a purple maned lion creeping through a crowd, let alone any no-majs. 

A particularly wide alleyway thrown in a large enough shadow takes Tina’s fancy. She directs Prince towards it quickly with a press of her ankles, before leaping of the beasts back smoothly. She leans her head around the wall towards the churches steeple. None of the crowd is marching towards her with their wands drawn- or worse, with their pitch-forks sharpened. Tina breaths a short-lived sigh of relief. For something hot and wet is dripping onto her forehead and looks up to find long tendrils of drool dripping from Prince’s fangs as he hovers over her. Tina pushes him backwards frantically, and the beast falls leaving her to gravity’s mercy. She collapses into the soft landing of his stomach with a ‘oof’. Prince licks her face happily, leaving her to spit out fur in disgust. 

“Yes, yes, I love you too,” Tina brushes him away good-naturally as she struggles to stand, “but no one can see you alright? I can’t have you hurt,” The creature blinks his big brown eyes at her blankly, and she tries her best not to stamp her feet in frustration. She looks around frantically. But the ground is bare except for sludge left over from the mornings dew and the sun that’s creeping over her shoes. 

“Look,” Tina says, directing Prince’s attention to the bright line, “If you stay,” She holds out a flat palm and he lies back in a relaxed manner, clearly stating he’s going to stay put. Satisfied, Tina continues. 

“When the light gets to your paws,” She points to the light and slowly moves her finger up to Prince’s massive clawed feet. The creature follows her hand with the resolve he usually only saves for his kitty toy, “You have to get out of here, okay Prince?”

He cocks his giant head at her, his eyes still as bottomless as before, revealing nothing. Tina walks over and takes his head in her hands, tugging desperately at his purple mane. 

“Because if I’m not back by then, it might mean something has happened to me,” She says firmly, her eyes almost bulging out of her head with her conviction, “Which means you’re going to have to go back and get-” Newt. Tina swallows harshly, blinking back another onslaught of tears. 

“Someone,” She croaks, dropping her head to his chest, a complex bubble of emotions pressing against her throat.   
A warm nose presses itself into her hair line, and Tina smiles wetly.

“Thank you sweetling,” She murmurs, sniffing. 

She leans into the warm creature’s touch, wishing for a second that she could just curl up with him. To spend her day in Prince’s company- exploring unknown cities and worlds until Tina finally gathers up her courage to look her actions in the eye. But her curiosity digs into her relentlessly. As well as her auror senses which are alarming loudly. And Tina can’t bring herself to ignore them. 

So she lets herself have one last minute of warmth before moving away. Prince curls up into a ball and Tina feels his eyes on her as she walks away. 

It’s an old gothic church. The turrets are the tallest thing in the village and it looms over the crowd perilously. Tina walks through the deserted town, trying her best to look as casual as possible. But her nonchalant expression is quickly taken over by a furrowed brow as she gets closer and closer. None of the many people seem to be inside the church yard. Instead they’re all pressed up against the jaggered church gates, staring intensely at the churches boarded up door. 

Tina is getting terrified looks as she shoulders herself closer to the front. Women move out of her way like the sea is parting, teenagers almost stumbling over each other to get out of her way. One middle aged man in patched trousers even goes as far to spit on the ground she walks on. But it barely comprehends in her mind. 

All Tina is concentrated on is the two people at the front of the crowd- on which all the subtle underlying sadness and terror seems to be centered on. 

Their clothes sag off their frames. The woman’s dirty blonde hair is half undone from her high bun, the slimy tendrils brush against her neck. The young man and woman, barely older than herself, are staring un-relentlessly out to the wooden planks nailed crudely against the doorway.   
The rest of the congregation, are muttering to themselves quietly and sipping from flasks or nibbling flaky pastries. They hover round the couple like planets in the solar system. Close but never touching. 

Tina can tell there’s something about the pair. Something sad, that draws you too them. But also something rotting, something that they’re holding that no one else wants to touch. 

Tina presses forward, sidling up close to the fence and turns towards the woman. Her face is pale with grief and lack of sleep. The only point of colour is her rosy red nose, brought on by the icy morning. 

“I’m sorry,” Tina says laying a soft hand on the woman’s shoulder, “But are you alright?” At her words the woman’s face falls, literally, her forehead pressed up against the bars. She lets out an animalistic whine; the man next to her continues to whisper in rapid German. Tina rubs the woman’s shoulder nervously, as she continues to remain mute and distraught. 

“You can’t help misses,” A gentleman speaks- with a crooked nose, and lines ingrained in his face as thick as any river. He sighs heavily, whipping his hat off his head and pressing it in defeat to his heart, “those children must be dead by now,” 

Tina stares, her heart beating fast and unsteady. 

“Dead children?” She whispers desperately in his direction, before he has a chance to turn away, “what has happened here?” 

The old man stares of into the distance, watching the sun rise with a melancholic expression. 

“We’ve thought it was unusual, but harmless,” He murmurs with the deep knowledge of age, “It is known that some children are born with ‘abilities’, to fly, to mend, to draw things to them with the ease…almost like ‘magic’ I suppose,” He must take Tina’s stricken expression for disbelief, for he hastens to amend his statement. 

“Don’t think me crazy Misses, my childhood best friend was one,” He smiles reminiscently, dropping his hands into his pockets, “I haven’t seen him in an age, not since he went off to school,” 

‘Does this mean what I think it means?’ Tina thinks thunderstruck. Her mind races to uncover another solution than that one that keeps flashing in her face.  
Muggle born witches and wizards are common in this town, and are treated kindly instead of with fear and derision. However, now some children have been captured by an unknown force. Tina sits back on her heels- not paying attention to the old man’s ruminations on his friends deeply magical antics- deep in thought. 

Who on earth would want to take innocent, untrained magical children? After all, if they’re kept for long enough- away from all they know and love- they’ll eventually develop a obsurious which would only lead to pain and destruction and…

The answer hits Tina like a lightning bolt and it shakes her to the core. Grindlewald. He’s hording children. Capturing them from all circles of the world, holding them until darkness cultivates in their soul, before bursting out of them. A black shadow made of death. ‘This must be what the ‘weapons’ are,’ Tina thinks, vibrating with injustice and rage. Small, compact, pliant and incredibly powerful. It’s not a physical weapon, but instead individual children unwillingly being forced into an evil army. 

Her ears ring as she slowly comes back to the present. Tina can feel her magic boiling to the surface of her skin, and she clenches her fists in a mad effort of keeping it down. 

“Liesel and Ernst have been waiting every day and a night,” The old man is saying, his voice disheartened, “In rain, and cold, but their little darlings-“ 

“They’ve stayed out here?” Tina asks incredulously, lowering her voice so her disbelief doesn’t meet the distraught parent’s ears, “Waiting for children that might never return?”

The mother, Liesel's, eyes are red, and silent tears fall down her face. Her husband wraps a strong arm around her waist, his face pale and wobbly. They yearn silently, never ailing, with the constant aura of love and grief that surrounds them. 

“Of course,” The old man says earnestly. 

The father, Ernst's, fingers clench around the gates bars. He and his wife’s hands are the only ones who touch the air inside the churches yard. The church itself almost seems to watch them. The window’s overlooking them like giant glass eyes. 

“Your children can feel you, even when you can’t see them, and you can feel them in turn” The man shrugs as if it is completely obvious, “You’ll understand when you become a mother,”

“I’m not sure that I will become one,” Tina hangs her head. As well as the deep fear that rocks her at the thought of her children wrecked by war. Her anxieties now also have to contend with the fact that she now will never have a chance to have any. The one man she’s ever managed find happiness with, in all her twenty-six years, she has now pushed away.

The children she’s secretly dreamed of. With her dark hair, and Newt’s green eyes... Their little smiles have disappeared in a flash of smoke. Tina bites down fiercely on her bottom lip. Newt can do better than her, he’ll see that now. And surely it’s better to cause herself pain, than be the cause of the pain of her children. Right? 

The old man must notice emotional turmoil. 

“I lost my father in war,” He says, his grey eyes soft and earnest, “And there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t feel him watching over me, loving me,” His wrinkled hand reaches out to hold Tina’s own. She looks down at their hands- one young, one old- her eyes wet. 

“Parents never truly leave their children,” He smiles, a rather gummy smile, and squeezes her hand softly.

Tina reaches up with her free hand, and wraps her fingers around her mother’s necklace. She thinks about all the times she’s felt her behind her, her warm breath on the back of her neck, her sweet voice in her dreams. 

“No, I suppose they don’t,” She whispers numbly. The necklace is warm in her grasp and Tina holds it to her tightly, closing her eyes for a moment. Then she tucks it into her shirt again. 

“Listen,’ Tina says wetly, blinking rather rapidly. She pulls her wand out from her back pocket. The man takes a hasty step backwards, fear and betrayal suddenly filling his eyes. Tina holds out a hand quickly.

“I’m not one of them,” She says hastily, begging him to believe her, “I’m the opposite, I promise, I want to help,”

The man considers her. Swallows tremendously. Then he nods.   
\--------  
The floorboards creak ominously as Tina makes her way carefully down the stairs. 

The upper level of the church was empty except for rows and rows of dusty seats which marked a pathway down the aisle. There was no sign of life- human or otherwise. But a quick spell alerted her quickly to the promise of success. 

So wand aloft, Tina creeps tentatively down into the basement, her heart almost pounding out of her chest. 

“Hello?” Tina whisper shouts, trying to make her hoarse voice as loud as possible.   
It echoes off the walls, vibrating round the darkened room. 

She freezes, her muscles hard and tense, raising her wand above her head in preparation. But no response, wanted or otherwise makes an appearance. Tina steps deeper in to cavern.

“My name is Tina, Tina Goldstein,” She says tentatively, her fingers flexing around her wands hilt. The darkness is so complete she can barely see a foot in front of her, let alone any trembling children, “I’m here to help you, I promise,” 

There is another silence. All Tina can hear is the rapid pounding of her heart. Her short tight breathes. The air grows thick around her, like an early morning fog rising up from the ground. 

Then suddenly she’s lifted into the air by an invisible hand, which holds her tightly by the throat. Tina’s wand drops to the ground with a clutter as she claws desperately. But there’s nothing to touch, and all she scratches is her bare throat. Helpless, she’s dragged away, with not even enough breath left to scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A child and a cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I'm glad everyone...enjoyed? (kinda?) the last chapter. This one continues on for the last one, and what's happened to Tina.  
> Hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> Little disclaimer- there's some German in this chapter, and the translations are in the bottom notes. But I'm sorry if I've got any of my translations wrong. I used google translate and I know how wrong it can get even the most simple sentences, so feel feel to correct me!

One hand is around her throat, the other is tight round her stomach. Tina can’t move. She can barely breath, each invisible finger digging hard into her trachea. She’s completely helpless to the assault, and her legs swing uselessly in mid-air, trying desperately to kick her attacker but finding nothing but thin air. Tina’s vision grows blurry, as the lack of oxygen muses her sight, and she sucks in air pathetically through her lips like a straw, refusing to succumb to the darkness. 

There’s a loud creak, a high pitched whimper, and the invisible fingers tighten, causing Tina to retch. But then, suddenly they’re gone, and she feels herself being thrown, then falling. She lands on a wooden floor with a thud, massaging her swollen throat, gasping in gulps of welcome air. Dimly she hears the rustles of human movement, and out of the corner of her eye, a small cracked leather shoe. A ripped petticoat. Dirty blonde heads. Tina looks up. Three small children crowd round her, blonde, pink faced cherubs. Two older, one small. The little girl hides in her sister’s skirts, and her brother puts a hand on her shoulder. 

“Es ist eine Dame,” He says, and the older of the girls rolls her eyes. The answer must have been obvious. 

“Ist es Mamma?” The little girl squeaks. 

“Nein,” Her older sister says gently. 

“Dann ist es mir egal,” The baby stomps her foot petulantly, storming away in a huff. 

“Margarete,” The older girl groans, and follows her, clearly aiming to forgo a tantrum. 

The remaining child watches them go sadly. He sighs, and Tina sees sadly that he’s had to grow up much faster than he ever should have. These, she realises with a jolt, must be Lisel and Ernst’s children. Who were assumed dead. Tina sits up sharply. She’s in a room, a cell really, about as big as her old bedroom back in New York. It is completely empty. No chairs, no beds, no nothing. Only air and dust. There are only three walls, but the one that is missing has been replaced by iron bars, almost as big as her fist. ‘I’m trapped,’ Tina realises with a terrified gulp, ‘I’m as hopeless as a bird in a cage,’. Her back pocket feels empty without the familiar shard of her wand pressing into her skin. She looks up at the boy with deep sorrow. ‘And there’s nothing I can do to help them,’.

“Wie heißen Sie?” The child speaks, clearly addressing her. Tina can do nothing but stutter as she tries in vain to translate the strange vowels that fall from his lips.

“I’m sorry,” She says, speaking as slow and as clear as humanly possible, at the small chance he knows a splatter of English, “I don’t know any German,” She shrugs hopelessly as the boy turns away from her, clearly disappointed. 

“Englisch,” He mutters to his siblings, and Tina watches, heart in her stomach, as the girl’s shoulders slump. The children crowd together, their blonde heads turned away from her wretched eyes. 

Tina sighs, her chin resting against her chest. Will she ever do anything right? 

Eckh.

She looks up. Only a small window has been given to them for light. And the small space that has been lit by the soft morning sun, has already been claimed by the golden siblings. The rest of their cell is a shadow. And for a moment Tina swear she can see something moving in it’s depths. 

Ecckh. 

Yes, there perhaps. Is that an arm? A leg? Tina stares into the darkness.

“Hello?” She whispers, her tentative voice echoing quietly off the wooden walls, “is anyone there?” 

Another soft snuffle. And there- in one corner. Two dark eyes blink at her- wide and frightened. Tina crawls slowly towards the shivering beacon. The fabric of her pants gets torn on various nail heads, her forearms getting shredding by knots of wood. The pain doesn't matter. 

A young boy cowers in a corner, a mere shadow, made up of bone and breath. His is skin so black it’s almost blue. He looks older than the other children, almost old enough to go off to school. Tina’s heart aches at his terrified features. She holds out a friendly hand in his direction, but the boy flinches away.

“I’m Tina,” she says, dropping her hand but offering him a kind smile. 

“You’re American” the boy replies in a familiar accent. Tina blinks. How on earth did this young boy come to travel across the seas and end up in this hell hole? 

“Yes,” Tina eventually acquiesces, “and so are you,” 

“Have you come to take me away?” The boy wraps his arms around himself, shuddering. His voice full of tears and fear. 

Tina can’t help it. Children, anyone really, but especially children in need, strike a chord within her. She shuffles up beside him and takes her in her arms. He’s as stiff as a board, but she still continues to hold him tight to her chest, her chin resting in his curly hair.

“No sweetling,” she whispers fiercely, “I’m not going to take you away,”

“They said someone was,” The boy sniffs, wrapping a loose hand around her own, “they said I was useful, but all they’ve done is kept me here,”

“For how long?” Tina asks curiously, “How long have you been here?” 

He shrugs, his tiny shoulders bobbing up and down, raking her collarbones. 

“A long time,” He mutters, “They took me from the orphanage, onto a ship, then here,” 

Tina holds him tighter, only just preventing herself from digging her nails into his skin. Those bastards. They have been collecting children like cattle, herding them up in the darkness. Just because they have a parasite growing in them, that they have no control and probably no knowledge of. Bile runs up Tina’s throat and she forces herself to swallow it. Why on earth does Grindlewald need them? More children, ready to be used, just in case Credence’s power is found unsuccessful? 

“I promise, I’m going to get you out of here,” She swears valiantly, “all of you,” she looks to the three little ones, who are more interested in a moth fluttering round the ceiling than her courageous words.

The boy leans back in her arms. He’s so thin he’s practically snap-able, and his eyes bulge out of his head. Two chocolate pools blink up at her, and tears drip down his cheeks. 

“I don’t know whether I’d like that Miss Tina,” His gaze drops from hers and down to his feet. His shoes are in tatters, almost falling off his toes. 

“Why not?” Tina asks, trying her best to keep her incredulous feelings out of her tone. 

“Because I wouldn’t have anywhere to go,” A dark blush stains his cheeks. 

An unnamed emotion swells up in Tina’s throat. He’s rubbing his elbow in an embarrassed manner. She can tell by his sheepish expression that he’d like nothing more to escape from her arms. But he’s also leaning into her touch, his body unconsciously yearning for someone to hold him. He reminds her of two people she cares for- so very much. Credence. And Newt. Sadness curls in her chest and a passion. A passion to save this poor child from a terrible fate. 

“You can stay with me,” Tina says tremendously, finally managing to push down the anxiety that flutters in her stomach. The giant black bat of fear that threatens to engulf her which comes from the thought of having children has been extinguished slightly by the old man's words, Lisel and Ernst’s unrelenting faith and this boy’s big, brown eyes. 

“Really?” His voice is full of suspicion. But hope shines through the pours of his skin.   
Tina leans forward and kisses his forehead. 

“Yes, of course,” She murmurs, and the boy grins. For a second she no longer sees a defeated creature, but a cheeky ten-year-old covered in mischief. 

“I’m Jamie,” He says happily, leaning against her side. 

“Nice to meet you Jamie,” Tina smiles, strange tears burning at the corner of her eyes.

A hard guttural voice screams at the top of his lungs. The little ones gather together like sheep, and Jamie jumps under Tina’s arm as a red faced man shakes their cells bars with a snarl. She stares him down- a wand may be strapped to his hip, but he’s clearly more brawn than brain. As firm as a rock, Tina refuses to yield her cold and utterly unimpressed expression. Even as the man’s face shifts from angry to suggestive, his porky eyes taking her up and down.

Tina’s disgust rises to her skin as magic- The cells bars are wide enough that it just might work. A perfect timed spell that hits him square between the eyes. Not quite as powerful as it would be with her wand in her hand, but certainly powerful to slip everyone easily through the bars, to find Prince, to escape to safety? 

Tina rests one finger discreetly on her knee, as the man leans coquettishly, one arm raised in what he clearly believes to be a winning manner. She squints, and takes aim. 

Bang!

Her spell rockets off the bars. Bouncing back like a child on a trampoline and shooting backwards towards her. Tina throws herself to the ground just in time, pulling Jamie along with her as the wall where her head once was, shudders with the impact. 

“You can do it too?” Jamie breathes wondrously, “how’d you get the explosions red though? Ours are all black,” he examines his fingers with childish fervour. 

The child’s voice is matter-of-fact, though quiet and feathery. Tina however is shaking like a leaf; a fear she didn’t even realise she should have seeping into her soul. 

The cage is magic proof. They’re truly trapped. And no one, not even Prince, knows where she has gone. Her hand creeps up her shirt and wraps a tight hand over her mother’s necklace. It brings her no peace, only the small comfort that comes from knowing something you hold dear is near. 

The guard chuckles cruelly, as Tina sits up again. He hooks a circle of old silver keys off his belt and waves it in from of her teasingly, as if she were a dog and he a master with a bone. 

“They told me you’d try something like that,” He says smugly, as if he thought of the plan himself, “Only these will save you sweetheart,” The keys jingle temptingly and Tina has to resist the urge to reach out and snap them out of his meaty hands.

The man tucks them away again, almost drunk on his own cleverness. 

“And these are mine,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest with all the pride of the lord.

Tina grinds her teeth together painfully. Her nails would’ve surely drawn blood to her palms, if she wasn’t currently clutching Jamie to her chest. 

“What do they want with me?” She snaps, too angry to think to be more pleasant to her gaolers, “Why don’t you just kill me and be done with it?” 

The man’s brow creases- these big questions too large for his small brain. When he speaks again his words are short and gruff. 

“Read this,” He huffs, pulling a small piece of paper from his pocket and holding it in close to the bars, “it’s for you,”

Tina would dearly love to be strong enough to stay put on the floor. But her curiosity eats away at her nerve, and eventually she lets go of Jamie and slowly crawls towards the swirly writing. She reads it once quickly. Freezes. The forces herself to read it again. She convinces her face to be as cold and unreadable as stone. But underneath Tina’s emotions roll like a tidal wave. The words in the familiar hand, flickering behind her eyelids. 

“Well sweetheart,” The guard says, the high timber of his voice betraying his interest, “do you understand?” 

Tina stares up at him. Not trusting her tongue to speak, she spits on the ground- a truly suitable answer to the note- and he scowls, pressing the note inside his robes again. He kicks the iron bars near Tina’s face and she jolts backwards. A small hand curls round her upper arm. 

“I’m sure the brats will tell you about the ‘feeding’ times,” The guard gives her one last leer, before stomping away, “see you next time, sweetheart,” 

Tina shivers at the look of possession shining in his eyes. Seeing that look in Newt’s eyes makes her burn inside, like hot coals in a fire place. Seeing it in this man freezes her blood to ice. 

“Miss Tina?” Jamie asks tremendously.

She looks round to find the children gathered around her. All their eyes are big and round as dimes. The youngest has her thumb in her mouth, which she sucks pitifully. The twin’s hands are entwined tightly- both have identical dark shadows under their eyes and their collarbones stick out like chicken bones. Jamie’s warm hand is still around her arm, and it shakes where it lies. Tina can tell from the line of his mouth he’s trying to stay strong, but his eyes betray him as they fill with tears. 

“What did the letter say?” He asks, his head flicking briefly to the darkness, where the guard had disappeared to. 

‘See you soon’. 

Tina bites her lip hard enough to draw blood. Then she holds out her arms to all of them. Jamie rushes into her chest. The other three come more tentatively, but eventually they settle down too, as she runs her hands through their hair and hugs them tight. 

“Nothing sweetling,” She whispers, shutting her eyes tight as if that could remove the words from her brain. 

The smallest girl begins to cry. Her hearty sobs fill the room, and she wipes her nose on Tina’s trousers. Her siblings chatter desperately in rapid German, trying to calm their kin, but her wails continue and they eat away at Tina’s heart. She could be no more than five years old. 

Her hair is a blonde halo round her head as the child buries herself into her side. Tears seep from Tina’s eyes. She could almost be eight years old again, comforting Queenie as she sobbed, her own eyes weeping but steadfastly determined to be the strong one. Tina had done the only thing she could think of then; what her father had always done after one of them had had a nightmare. And she does so now.

“Once upon a time,” She begins in a slow, calm, voice, “there was four children locked in a tower, waiting patiently to be saved,” 

Jamie is watching her entranced. The German children clearly don’t understand her words, but her tone seems to comfort them. The twins lean into her, watching her mouth with fascination and the little girl’s cries turn into small hiccups. Tina smiles wetly round at them all takes a deep breath. 

“A lady tried her best to get to them,” She says quietly, wiping the little girl’s cheeks softly, causing her to smile toothily, “The lady thought she could hide in the shadows, but was caught and locked up too,” 

Her next thought catches her off guard. Tina tries her best to un-think it, to find another name that would fit. But the idea has taken hold and she can’t bring herself to shake it. 

“A Lord came after his lady,” Tina says, more than a little shakily, “with a shining sword and a magical bag full of worlds, Lord Salamander would stop at nothing to rescue them,”

“Salamander?” Jamie asks, his face twisted into derision, “Like the lizard?” 

Tina sits back, the wonderful descriptions of Newt’s book coming back to her in waves. The memory of his trembling compliment swims to her mind, and she presses a palm up to one eye, to prevent her sudden tears from falling. 

“Yes, like the lizard,” Tina replies wetly, “A pure white lizard made of flame, with shining black eyes, like fire on dark water,” 

“Oh,” Jamie says proudly, as if he’s just discovered a great secret, “Like your eyes, Miss,” 

Tina gapes at him. Then the tears really do fall. She presses them all to her breast, so they can’t see them flow freely down her cheeks. 

“Yes sweetling,” She says softly, “Like my eyes,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The German children's conversation in order-  
> 'It's a lady'  
>  'Is it Mamma?'  
> 'No'  
> 'Then I don't care'  
> 'Margarete'  
> 'What's your name?'   
> 'English'
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Newt cries, Jacob talks, Prince returns and Dumbledore takes it too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I hope everyone enjoys that chapters. It begins with Newt from where we left him- in his case, distraught.

Newt’s head rests hard against the table, his eyes squeezed shut. Perhaps this has all been just a dream and he’s about to wake up for real. And instead of sneaking out in the early hours in the morn to go feed his creatures, he will hug Tina tighter and never let her go. 

But no. The sticky tears that have dried on his face prove as much. At first he had simply cried, his shock too great to chase after her. Newton Scamander, the famous magizoologist, the first person to ever capture Grindlewald, crawled up into a ball, and bawled like a baby. Eventually all of his tears had dried up. But still all he could was lie there, feeling strangely empty. 

Tina had left him. 

She hadn’t wanted to. Newt could clearly see it. She had grabbed onto him so tight, Newt wouldn’t be surprised to find red marks embedded into his skin. Tina had wanted to stay with him- her beautiful eyes had shone with pain and wanting. Yet she had still broken away. 

Newt shivers in his seat, his legs trembling uncontrollably. Pickett has crept down his arm and his currently patting his finger comfortingly with his tiny leafy fingers. ‘I lost her,’ He whines into the wooden table top. A heady crestfallen cry that vibrates round the shed, ‘I lost her,’ 

“You’re lying,”

“I swear on my life I’m not,”

“Merlin’s beard that must’ve been hilarious,” 

The tired. yet cheery sounds of Jacob and Theseus slowly descend into the case. Newt knows he should get up. Wipe his face, put on a fake smile and pretend like everything’s fine. But he can’t. His limbs feel simultaneously weak and heavy, and he doesn’t even flinch when two loud ‘thumps’ land in his workspace. 

“Newt, Pal, Jesus are you alright?” A strong hand clamps down on his shoulder, and Jacob’s sober face swings into Newt’s view. Tears he didn’t think he had left trickle out of his eyes. 

“Tina,” Is all Newt’s able to croak, his voice rough and hoarse. He blinks out into the bright space of his case, but can see no familiar black haired witch. This makes it worse, somehow, and he cries harder. Two empathetic arms wrap round him tight and Newt falls into them thankfully. 

“What happened?” Theseus asks passionately, his eyes almost angry as Newt looks up at him. 

“We had a fight, she left…" The words ‘me’ get stuck in his throat and he can’t bear to speak them out loud. Instead Newt waves a pathetic hand outside vaguely, “I…I already miss her,” He sobs, wiping a hand across his soaked cheeks.

Newt shuts his eyes against the sympathetic look his best friend and brother must be sharing. But it’s the childish, irrevocable truth. He misses her, even though he knows she’s just somewhere out in his case. It’s the knowledge that his kisses will no longer be welcome, their touches no longer a simple fact of life, that that makes his heart ache with longing. 

“I’ll go out and find her,” Theseus says his gaze now soft, his anger defeated. He gives Newt a kind but sad smile, “Every couple has spats Newt, I’m sure you’ll be back to your adorable selves in no time,” His big brother walks out the door yawning. Newt can hear him calling Tina’s name, and he shakes his head in defeat. 

“She won’t want to see me,” He tells Jacob with a sniff. 

The muggle pulls up a chair and sits down next to him with a crunch. Confused the American bends down to discover two broken cups- one yellow, one blue. He sits the pieces tentatively on the table his eyes carefully devoid of emotion. Newt stares at the wreckage with a dull look in his eyes. His mugs are shattered- just like his heart. 

“Newt,” Jacob says seriously, placing a warm hand over his cold one, “What on earth happened?” 

Slowly but surely the whole sorry tale pours from Newt’s lips; with only small breaks for him to hiccup and wipe his eyes as he recounts his dreams. His fears.

“I mean I can’t be wrong, can I?” He asks trying his best not to sound petulant as he paces round his shed. He pushes his hair off his flushed cheeks with a weary hand, “To want her safe, to want us away from this mess,” 

Newt collapses back down in a chair, pushing the pieces of destroyed china around with the tip of his wand. 

“And her being an auror doesn’t help,” He says quietly, nibbling on his bottom lip. 

Newt’s derision with auror’s normally arises from his general distaste for everything the majority of them stand for. Climbing the ministry ladder, whatever the cost. Tina is the only truly good auror he’s ever met. An honourable knight fighting honestly for the innocent and for justice. He places her so far above the gits he usually associates as aurors he doesn’t really even consider her one. But her job will mean she’ll be in the line of fire, not matter how good she is. Knights can be cut down. And brilliant witches can die. At that thought- of Tina, cold, unmoving, lifeless- new found tears spring to Newt’s eyes. 

“I can’t see her hurt Jacob,” He shakes his head in defeat, bright sparks flying out of his wand, “I don’t think I could bear it,” 

‘Just like Tina said she couldn’t bear their creatures and children being found by Grindlewald,’ A little voice whispers in the back of his mind, ‘which would be likely, don’t you think?’ ‘No, not if we hid away properly’ Newt argues back firmly, squashing the voice quickly before it has a chance to grow. But still the feeling lingers. The unwanted, sticky feeling of being wrong. 

Jacob sighs heavily, and he looks up, glad of the distraction from his messy thoughts. 

“I understand,” the American rests his head in his hands. For the first time Newt sees the shadow the baker has been hiding from the world. His friend that was usually the laughter of life has become broken. Newt holds out his hand and Jacob takes it. 

“I would do anything to get Queenie back,” Jacob says in a dull voice, his face sombre, “Anything,” His fingers clench, hard, in Newt’s own. 

“But not ‘crazy’ her,” The muggle spits out the word, as if it hurts him, “I want to get bright, bubbly, beautiful Queenie back,” He looks up to meet Newt's gaze. His brown eyes are open and stern. 

“You can’t deny Tina wanting to do the same thing,” Jacob says quietly. Newt retracts his hand, suddenly feeling as though he’s being told off- not empathised with. 

“I wasn’t going to deny her anything,” Newt replies slowly, smiling awkwardly, “I was just going to-“

“Convince her that dropping everything she believes in and running off with you is a good idea?” Jacob cuts in, raising an eyebrow. He’s not smiling. Newt drops his eyes abashed. 

“Not everything…” He mumbles.

‘No not everything,’ The little voice comes back with a vengeance, ‘just her job, her morals, her own bloody sister-‘

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Newt blurts out loudly; more to himself than to Jacob who’s staring at him like he’s developed a second head. Newt’s hands tremble where he’s splayed them on the table. He clenches his jaw. 

“I want her safe,” He repeats pathetically, tears stinging at his eyes. 

“Of course you do,” Jacob says plaintively, leaning forward in his chair, “You love her,” The muggle shrugs easily. Newt however almost chokes on his on saliva. 

“No I don’t,” He splutters, his heart beating about a thousand times per minute, “I care deeply about her- she’s the only person- but that doesn’t mean- I want her- not like that Jacob- well…I suppose sometimes…most of the time-but that's not the only- she’s bright and beautiful and kind and Merlin’s beard I love her,” 

Newt takes a deep breath, a grin growing on his face. Love. He loves her. Tina. That is who he loves. Jacob shakes his head slowly, finally smiling. Smirking really. 

“Yes,” He says, as if explaining it to a two-year-old, “And she loves you,” Newt looks up from his happy daydream, where he confesses his love to a smiling Tina who rushes to take him back.

“She does?” He asks incredulously, his eyes brimming with tears again. But this time happy tears.

Jacob laughs, a free, belly laugh, that makes his shoulders shake and eyes water.

“Honestly pal,” He chuckles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “Would you like me to propose for you?”

Newt blushes, and shakes his head quickly. But his smile stays. To propose. To make Tina his wife. He would be her husband. She would lovely in a white dress, flowers in her hair. She’d looked lovely in anything of course. Or without anything. Newt blushes harder, his cheeks a warm red. His best new found joy not quite big enough yet to suffocate his anxieties. 

“We fought though,” His says, looking to Jacob like he’s a book with all the answers, "it was awful, and she left," 

“All couples fight Newt,” The muggle says in such a calming voice, Newt can’t help but believe him, “you two just need to sit down and talk, really talk, and I’m sure you’ll be back to your annoying adorable selves by sundown,” 

The sound of footsteps approaching cause Newt and Jacob to turn away from each other. Theseus climbs the steps slowly, scratching the back of his head. Newt leaps out of his chair, ready to greet the woman he loves (loves!). But Tina is not trailing along behind him. His shoulders slump and he shuffles his feet. 

“She didn’t want to come,” Newt says softly, pulling anxiously at his trousers.

“No. Well I suppose... I don’t actually know,” Theseus’s face scrunches up in apprehension. Newt raises his eyebrows at him, and his brother flinches uncomfortably, “I couldn’t find her,” 

“What?” Newt asks, his sadness flying off him in his confusion. He looks around Theseus as if expecting to find her hiding under his work bench, or to have found comfort with Dougal in his habitat. But to no avail, “are you sure?” A small thread of fear has worked its way under his skin. 

“Yes,” Theseus says, also looking wary, “I cast a charm and everything,” 

Newt pushes past his brother, ready to do his own wide sweep. Jacob and Theseus hurry after him. 

“Couldn’t she have ‘whooshed’?” Jacob huffs heavily as Newt keeps a fast pace round his case, “you know like you do,” He spins his finger in circle so quickly it becomes a blur. 

“You can’t apparate on Hogwarts grounds,” Newt says tensely, his mind much more concentrated on Tina’s possible hiding spot, than being amicable. 

But Theseus was right. Tina is nowhere to be found. The anxiety Newt had dispersed comes back with a sudden and vicious vengeance. The three men stare hopelessly at each-other, confusion marking each of their features. Newt trembles with worry, all possible scenarios each worse than the last crashing through his mind. A loud roar intermingles with his desperate thoughts, and he turns to find Prince galloping towards him from a burst of sparks. There’s no rider on his back. Newt races towards the creature, Jacob and Theseus following tentatively behind. His fur is cold, and damp. The magizoologist leans in, and takes a long, hard sniff. Yes, there it is. Ink and lavender. Tina. 

“Where is she Prince?” He asks the creature hurriedly, patting his mane encouragingly as if he could reply, “Where did you take her?” 

“Newt!” A voice calls from the distance. 

He turns to find Yusuf and Dumbledore racing towards him. Both wizard’s faces are hard and stern.

“What is it?” Newt asks irritably, more than a little distracted, one hand still on Prince’s side. 

“Your lovely Miss Goldstein,” Yusuf says more than a little sarcastically, “Has managed to get herself kidnapped and detained by Grindlewald’s followers,” 

It’s as if Newt has walked through a ghost. His blood freezes to ice, and suddenly his feet don’t seem to be working any more. His brother catches him as he stumbles, but he barely feels it. ‘Please, god no. Not Tina. Not my Salamander, not Tina,’ He thinks desperately. The creature in his chest howls with misery. 

“Yes, it would seem that Tina has gotten herself into a bit of a pickle,” Dumbledore says softly. Newt can’t help but notice, with more than a little distress, the professors voice is filled with pride. Yusuf is not so complementary. 

“She somehow got herself to Germany, and has gotten herself locked in one of the strongholds the ‘weapons’ are stored in,” The French man states angrily, “Do any of you have any idea how she could’ve possibly done this?” 

“Prince,” Newt says numbly, patting the Zouwu’s chest, “He can travel extraordinary distances in only a few steps,” 

“Baise moi,” Yusuf mumbles, wiping a tired hand over his brow. 

“We have to do something!” Jacob says frantically. Newt can feel his gaze boring into his back. 

“We can’t just walk into Grindlewald’s lair,” Theseus explains shrewdly, “What if it’s a trap? We have to plan this, and carefully,” He gives Newt’s shoulder a tight squeeze, before letting go, walking over to Yusuf ready to receive more information. 

Dumbledore meanwhile is gazing up at Prince with a far off look on imbedded on his face. When Newt was eleven he’d found that twinkle in his eye fun and exciting. Now all he feels is the heavy weight of dread. 

“Miss Goldstein,” The professor begins, “Is an auror with tremendous skill and qualifications,” Dumbledore places his hands in his pockets with a practiced ease. A slightly wild smiles lies on his face.

Already knowing what he is thinking, Newt begins to shake with barely restrained rage. He quickly moves his hands behind his back where they clench together painfully. Jacob’s warm hand presses gently on his shoulder and Newt nods stiffly in thanks. 

“What are you talking about Albus?” Yusuf asks suspiciously, wearing a deep frown.  
Dumbledore shrugs casually and stares around at them all pleasantly. 

“It could be useful,” He says, with all the ease of one who thinks they’re right, “To have someone on the inside,” 

“No,” Newt whispers fiercely. Tina swims into his mind- wandless and defeated- with a web slowly tying itself around her. His hands shake with the effort to not wrap themselves round the spider’s throat.

The rest of his partners are equally outraged. 

“Good god Dumbledore, you can’t be serious,’ Theseus speaks up disbelievingly, “we can’t just leave her there,” 

Infuriatingly Dumbledore simply shrugs again, ignoring Prince’s dangerous growl. 

“To infiltrate one of these holdfasts was going to be our goal anyway,” He states matter-of-factly, “I don’t see-“

“No!” Newt yells tremendously, stone cold in his anger, “that is too far Dumbledore even for you,” Jacob’s hand has turned hard and firm where it rests on his arm. 

Theseus’s is staring at him with barely concealed pride. Newt’s cheeks flush, but he does not bow his head. He might let himself get locked into his old professors’ games, but he refuses to let Tina be tied in so as well. If it’s the last thing he’s ever allowed to do for her- at least it will be the right thing.

The professors jaw is momentarily rendered lax by his words. But sooner, rather than later, he shakes off his shock. 

“Newt,” Dumbledore says, fixing him with a disappointed look, “I know you care for this woman,” 

Newt rips himself out of Jacob’s grasp, his gaze blood red. 

“Care? CARE?” He shouts with such furiosity he can sense his creatures bowing slightly, baulking against their master’s fury, “I BLOODY LOVE HER,” Dumbledore’s eyes widen with surprise and shame, and Newt’s chest puffs up with triumph. 

“That’s right,” He spits loudly, the creature in his chest roaring viciously, “I love her, I Newt Scamander love Tina Goldstein,” 

“And if you think for one second, I’m going to let her become a pawn in your chess game,” Newt presses firm a finger to Dumbledore’s chest, trying his best to ignore the angry tears that spit out of his eyes, “then you are fucking insane,” He almost never swears. But if anything would lead him lead him to speak the taboo word than it would be this. 

“Whoo!” Theseus whoops, clapping his passionate speech heartily, “Well said, Newton,” 

Newt nods faintly in his direction, truly thankful for his support. However, as his sudden rage rushes out of him, the hypocrisy of his words hits him squarely in the face, causing him to internally stutter. After all, wasn’t it just before Newt himself wanting to take Tina’s choice away from her? Wanting her to live apart from her passions? Wanting her to follow his plan regardless of her wants? What right does he to berate Dumbledore for talking so, when he’s basically just as bad from him. Newt’s shoulders fall in on themselves, and he hangs his head, awash in self-loathing. ‘Tina doesn’t deserve me,’ He thinks numbly, ‘and to think I called her a careerist hypocrite,’. 

“What are we going to do then?” Jacob asks, his voice tremendous in the awkward silence.

Newt sets his jaw, determination flooding him in waves. He may not deserve her. But Merlin is he going to try his best to become so.

“We’re going to get her back,” He says firmly, and Prince roars, shaking his head with pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Baise moi' - Fuck me. 
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An escape and an explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again,  
> I'm back with Tina and an escape plan! I hope everyone enjoys it. 
> 
> Serious disclaimer- before you read this chapter. One character displays some sexual behavior that may be uncomfortable to you. Don't read this if you think you will be triggered in any way.

They’d made a plan, her and Jamie. Tina would never usually plan around a child’s life. But it was the only way. And judging from the lewd looks she’d been getting, not just from the first guard, but now the second and third. She figures Jamie and the little ones will have plenty of time to escape if things go balls up, while they punish her gleefully. 

‘It’s an awful thing,’ Tina thinks, leaning her head up against the wall, ‘to be thinking so complacently about such terrible things’. Her, five days ago, would have never. But a five day ago Tina had gotten more than a mere handful of moldy vegetables and three cups of metallic water per day. Comforts she had mostly doled out among the children anyway. They needed to grow. She is tall enough. 

Tina’s stomach growls shamelessly in protest, and she ignores the tell-tale scrape in her belly. Much like she’s ignoring her prominent ribs that are beginning to poke Jamie in the shoulder when they sleep. However, the ache that’s beginning to crawl behind her eyeballs, her dry lips and mouth?  
They have to get out soon. Or face the consequences the would come from never leaving. 

“Are you alright, Miss Tina?” Jamie asks from beside her, his tone too old for his age.  
Tina forces herself to smile gently in his direction, satisfied by her lie as his tense eyes relax. He snuggles into her once again, safe by his innocence.

“Of course sweetling,” She murmurs, placing a kiss into his curly hair.

“Are you excited?” The boy is practically trembling with anticipation. This only serves to fuel the flames of Tina’s anxiety. 

Jamie had taken her honour filled stories to heart. For the last two days he had been playing pretend all round their little cell, protecting the little ones from various shadows and dust balls. It had caused Tina great joy to watch them play. To let them be children, to be happy. But now his knightly persona terrifies her to her core and she gathers her close to him. 

“Remember,” Tina tells him, her fears making her voice sterner than she planned, “stick to the plan,” her feet vibrate with nervousness, creating a quick drumbeat against the stone floor. 

“I’m not a child,” Jamie pouts childishly, sticking out his small bottom lip in resentment, “I can do it!”

Tina nods numbly, trying her best not to wince as his eyes were still on her. Is this what a mother feels like on their child’s first day of school? The sensible knowledge that they must be free to live their own life clear in their minds, but still unable to let go of their offspring’s hand? 

Jamie is whispering their well-practiced speech, word for word under his breath, and Tina puffs up her chest proudly. He’s prepared well and if anything goes wrong, she’s going to be the one to take the fall. 

“It’ll be fine,” She hears herself say out loud. Jamie nods seriously as a guard’s footsteps begin to echo down the corridor. 

“Yes,” He nods, his bony hand giving hers a squeeze.

Tina swallows her fears and throws on her courage. 

“I’m proud of you,” She whispers fiercely and he gapes up at her, almost in confusion. Tina doubts he’s ever been told so in his whole life. This thought makes her pull her to him, hugging him so hard she’s sure his bone will crack. His tiny arms encircle her neck and he grips her like a monkey, acting much younger than his years and wrapping his legs around her waist. 

“Now?” He asks quietly into her ear. Tina looks over his head to find the guard looking over at them curiously. It’s the one that likes to drink too much wine a dinner, has a weak jaw and often slips in extra carrots for them all. Good.

“Yes,” She breaths and Jamie falls limp in her arms. 

“Sir, good sir!” Tina doesn’t sound like herself. She sounds like one of the gutless women in the new moving picture films, whose haircuts match her own. It works like a charm. The guard stands anxiously as she stumbles over to the bars, carrying an almost weightless Jamie. 

“What’s happened, Miss?” The guard asks kindly in a thick cockney accent. So kindly in fact, that Tina almost falters. Her heart aches to trust him. But with the children to think of, it is a risk that she simple cannot take. 

“Jamie, he collapsed,” She whimpers, showing him the seemingly unconscious boy, “I think he’s dying,” 

“It hurts, it hurts,” Jamie moans, a much better actor than Tina, and to her delight the guard’s hands clench on the bars. 

“Please sir,” She pleads with him, a real plea, for in truth that is what she’s doing.  
She’s pleading for their escape, “He needs air, only for a moment,” Tina looks pointedly at the doors lock, although she keeps her muscles steady. She doesn’t want to push her luck.

The guards mouth twists with indecision, and he rocks backwards and forwards on his toes, causing the cells keys to jingle at his waist. 

“You know I’m not allowed to do that, Miss,” He chides her uncertainly, his eyes flicking up the corridor where is companions must be residing. 

Tina inwardly sighs, knowing what she has to do, although she detests it with her entire body. It would be like if Newt hated a creature, or if Queenie forgot how to read minds. But it has to be done. She twists her face up in exaggerated agony. 

“He’s going to die, he’s going to die,” she groans, rocking Jamie’s limp body deliriously, “If he dies, I am sure I’ll die too,” Tina leans down over the boy’s head, omitting heart-rendering sobs. Out of the corner of her eye she watches in disgust as the guard’s eyes widen comically, and he reaches for the lock. Of course, the prize of Tina Goldstein, a twice survivor of Grindlewald’s fury, was a larger loss for him than any nameless child. ‘Bloody bastards’ Tina thinks harshly, as the door creaks open.

“Just you, and the boy,” The guard says gruffly, “Alright?” 

Tina nods mutely, holding Jamie harder in her arms. She stands carefully, as Jamie lets out another dramatic moan. Tina’s muscles are itching to run out the doorway, to leave the guard in the dust before he could even think to notice they were gone. But she forces herself to walk slowly, to keep her face calm as she passes the guard. 

“Get well lad,” He tells Jamie, and Tina flashes him a stiff smile. They’re so close. The stairs are just there. Now they just need to find her wand, and she can bust them all out of here. She’s just about to raise a foot to step onto the first large stone block when- 

“Ich möchte auch gehen,” A feathery voice states with all the pride and determination of a Queen. 

“Margarete!” Two terrified voices squawk.

Tina turns to find a blonde little cannon ball flying pass her. Her siblings- both as pale as ghosts- race after her and grab her by her chubby little arms. But it’s too late. They’re already shamefully half-way up the stairs. 

“Oi!” The guard booms, his thick face hot and red. Tina’s unable to do anything but freeze in horror as Jamie also manages to wriggle out of her arms, turning to their blonde cell mates, his arms crossed tightly. 

“Stop it, stop it,” Jamie cries angrily, hitting his foot too strongly against the ground for a sick boy on the point of death three second ago, “You’re ruining everything,” 

Tina watches the guards face melt from surprise to suspicion to anger, as quickly as sugar can be stirred into porridge. He stomps over to them with murder in his eyes. Tina quickly spreads out her weight, both trying to make herself a bigger target and protect all the children at once. But her shoulder’s shake with the hopelessness of it. If she leaves Jamie to protect the cherubs she leaves him exposed, but if she doesn’t leave Jamie then they’ll be unprotected. 

“You tricked me,” The guards pudgy finger waggles at her, “You’re not allowed to trick me, or I’m supposed to punish you,” He looks around at the all stonily before reaching for the wand on his belt. Tina quickly steps in front of the stairs, pushing Jamie roughly behind her. 

“Not the children,” She speaks loudly despite her dry throat, “Just me,” 

Tina refuses to lose his eye as he considers her, moving even closer. His hot breath is ugly and full of meat and cabbage. Tina’s jaw wobbles as he raises up a fist. But not to hit her. No, he does something even worse. Sour sick rises up in her throat as he brushes the back of his hand across her cheek, before running it down her neck. 

“Just you, eh?” The guard says raising a bushy eyebrow, smiling sweetly. Tina watches numbly as his fingers twist round his wand, his other hand making its way down her collarbone bone, then skimming the side of her breast. Tina shuts her eyes tight, trying to pretend she cannot feel his assault. It’s better it’s her. Not Jamie. Not Margarete. Not the twins. Just let it be quick, please. 

Slam! 

His hot pudgy hand flies off her hip. Tina herself collapses to the ground by the force of a blast, hitting her head painfully against the stone wall. She opens her eyes to see that the guard has been thrown backwards, and is lying motionlessly on the floor. She can’t see perfectly, for Jamie has stepped in front of her protectively; obscuring her view. But Tina’s almost positive she can see a hint of red flowing out from his plump lips. Jamie is shaking where he stands, so violently Tina’s afraid he’ll fall over. 

“Jamie, come away,” She calls breathlessly, rubbing the back of her head, where an angry bump is already rising. The boy doesn’t move. The air has become strangely dry and filled with static. 

“Jamie?” Tina tries again, her voice cracking into the eerie silence. He finally turns. One of the girls screams.

“He touched you,” Jamie’s voice is too high to be truly terrifying. But Tina can see how his eyes are rolling back in his head. She can see how his little fists clench with tension. 

“Run!” Tina shouts at the three blonde haired children. She points sharply at the door and they race up to it, their little feet pounding in time. 

She picks herself up off the floor, and struggles towards him. She cups his cheeks between her fingertips, stroking his skin in a slow, calm matter, despite her tremoring heart. His small hands grasp at her shirt for dear life. 

“Jamie,” Tina whispers her voice shuddering as the boy’s face becomes clouded by a shadow. The air ripples around him with pure, undiluted magic, “Jamie, don’t, breath, breath through it,” 

He’s shaking under her fingertips. But he’s not holding on to her anymore. Jamie’s hands have dropped loose to his sides. He’s not holding on. He’s letting go. 

“I can’t,” Jamie says helplessly, his eyes wide and terrified. Tina leans in and presses a hard kiss to his forehead. And then the world explodes. 

The next thing she feels is strong arms around the waist. The harsh jolting movement of being carried. When Tina finally rips her eyelids apart all she can see is soot and flame. The church is on fire. Flames crackle merrily, slowly bringing the structure to dust. Terrified screams ring in her ears, and she clutches to her saviour mindlessly as they carry her away from the carnage. 

“Go check on the muggles,” A familiar voice says raggedly, “I’ll look at to the boy,” 

“He’s alright,” Another voice says, “Is Tina?” 

Tina feels herself being lowered to the ground. She groans slightly at the rough landing, twisting away the broken shard of wood she’s been placed over. 

“It would seem so,” The first voice says gratefully. 

She rolls to her knees and looks up. Tina’s mouth is filled with the metallic taste of blood. She’s bit down on her tongue, but she barely feels it. All she can see is Jamie. She crawls over hastily, battering her knees on the harsh ground. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters as Tina cuddles him to her. He looks tiny in her arms, a little bird with his wings broken. There’s a jagged cut above his forehead, and black liquid is weeping into his eye. Tina wipes it away with a shaky thumb, and kisses the spot gently as if her touch could heal it. She’s sure she would’ve collapsed long before now, if it wasn’t for Jamie’s shaky breaths, the steady, if shallow, rise and fall of his chest. 

“He’s alive,” She says numbly, rocking him where they lay, “he’s alive,” 

A strong hand clasps down on her shoulder. A freckled hand. 

“Yes,” Theseus says erratically, his voice wracked with adrenalin, “and so are you, hurry up Tina, we’ve got to get out of here,” 

She nods blearily and Theseus tightens her grip on her, his nails marking her skin through her shirt.

“Thank Merlin we found you,” He’s almost scolding her, his words sharp and blunt. But Tina feels him drop a light kiss into her head, and she knows he can’t be too angry. Her hair must be putrid by now after all, “Everyone was so worried, Newt’s beside himself,” 

Tina’s heart jumps into her mouth. 

“Beside himself?” She asks tentatively in a small voice.

That doesn’t make it sound like he never wants to see her again. ‘Though don’t forget,’ an unhelpful little voice whispers, ‘he’s a kind man, possibly the kindest you’ve ever met,’. She drops her head to her chest in defeat. Newt must be worried for her as he would be for any friend he cares about. What else could she after what she said to him, if that? Tina grinds down her teeth in shame and sadness. 

Why on earth did she have to say it like that? ‘I can’t?’ Liesel and Ernst could. They had suffered, yes, but they never gave up on their children. They’d waited, waited almost past madness. She looks up to where the little family has crouched. Yusuf is talking rapidly to the beaming father, whose tears are forming tiny train tracks on his face. Liesel hasn’t even bothered looking up, her arms are wrapped around her children and they are looking up at her as though she is their whole world. Tina looks down at Jamie’s face, and his eyes flutter open. He smiles weakly at her before, slowly succumbing to unconsciousness again. Tina frights a strange desire to bite something, silent tears falling out of her eyes. ‘I can’t?’ Of course she could, would. She would be terrified to the point of madness, yes. But Tina could stand it with Newt’s hand enclosed in hers. And a little piece of happiness in the war to come. A dandelion in the darkness. A husband, a family to come home to? Wouldn’t that be lovely? Even now Tina doesn’t think she could go a day without seeing Jamie’s grin again.  
‘I can’t’. How dare she say such a thing to Newt, the man she loves? She could still be an auror and a mother…

Loves?

A loud sob wracks through her thin frame. Theseus is comforting her, one arm around her waist. But it’s no more than a breath of wind to Tina’s distressed ears. Love. She loves Newt. Of course she does, how could she not? And isn’t it just like her to realise something, just when she’s managed to ruin everything. 

A scratchy, wet surface licks her face. Tina opens her eyes to find a pair of massive brown eyes peering down at her curiously. 

“Lo’ Prince,” Tina sniffs. The beast nuzzles her head, and she finds her sight blinded by a mess of mane. In his haste to comfort her, one of Prince’s paws bumps into Jamie’s side, and the massive cat jumps backwards in surprise at the stranger. 

“This is Jamie,” She nods down to the slumbering child. The creature cocks his head, his tongue swinging back and forth curiously. Tina reaches up and pats Prince’s furs, nodding fervently. 

“I promised to care of him,” She tells the creature wetly, “Will you help me?” 

She gulps back a fresh wave of tears as Prince lies next to the child, butting his arm tentatively. Then, as if judging him worthy, he also licks his cheek. A gentle lick, one the barely ruffles Jamie’s hair. Tina leans in and presses a gentle kiss on Prince’s nose.

“Thank you,” She whispers, and Prince’s eyes close. She’s never felt Newt’s presence more vividly before. Tina hugs it close to herself, like a blanket, and it's almost like his arms are around her. The creature couldn’t have more clearly said ‘you’re welcome’. 

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” Yusuf asks, stomping across the ground to meet them, and smoothly mounting the Zouwu in one fluid movement. 

Theseus tugs on Tina’s arm. She finally complies, standing on wobbly legs, looking around and patting down her body as she does so- checking. Prince is safe- Check. Jamie is safe- Check. Her mother’s necklace- Check. Her wand…Her wand. Tina thoughtlessly throws out her arm behind her, summoning the piece of wood. 

But it doesn’t return to her fingers. 

Turning agitatedly, Tina tries again, pressing harder this time. But still her hand remains empty. She peers into the smouldering church. A ward, perhaps, is preventing it from returning to her. Extra protection, just in case she achieved the impossible? 

She can feel its presence as loud as a bell. It shouldn’t be too hard to find. 

“My wand,” She mumbles, taking a step towards the wreckage. Theseus tugs her back. 

“Are you crazy?” Theseus hisses, “Tina, I’ll buy you a new bloody wand, come on, before anyone turns up,” he looks anxiously up into the sky, as if expecting Grindlewald’s followers to fall out from the clouds above them.

Tina shakes her head, and tries to step again. But her tired body is too weak for the wizard’s strong grip. She gives him her mostly deadly glare. It was her wand. Bought for her when she was eleven, with the last of her parent’s money. Envied by Queenie, despite it’s plain appearance. That helped her pass her auror exams. That defended Credence. It was her wand and she wants it back. 

“My wand,” Tina repeats defiantly and Theseus rolls her eyes. 

“Fine,” He huffs, “But I’m coming with you,” 

Tina smiles happily, and Theseus returns it grudgingly, ruffling her hair like she was his little sister. She kneels down, and picks up Jamie gently. 

“Take him,” Tina says softly, passing up, to a puzzled Yusuf, an unconscious Jamie. 

The French man takes the boy, cuddling him to his chest. But it’s too hard for him with only one hand, as one must also be wrapped around the Zouwu’s fur and Jamie begins to slip from his hold. Prince roars in distress at the threat of losing his precious cargo. Tina and Theseus leap forward, catching Jamie just before he falls into the dirt.  
They lay him carefully on the ground, and Tina sucks on the inside of her cheek in thought. 

“You’d better go with them,” She tells Theseus, nodding her head at Prince’s back, “otherwise we’ll never get anywhere,” 

“I’m not leaving you here alone,” Theseus says fiercely, gripping her hand tightly, “Do you honestly think Newt would forgive me if I went back without you?” 

“It’ll take Prince a minute at most,” Tina argues back, “And…” 

She lifts her mother’s necklace off her neck, and places it gently around Jamie’s. Her neck feels strangely empty without its presence. Tina can’t remember the last time she took it off. She strokes Jamie’s cheek softly. 

“Newt knows I would never leave this to just anyone,” She tells Theseus firmly, “And he knows I could never be parted from it for long,” 

Theseus still looks unconvinced. Tina doesn’t give him a choice, placing Jamie gently into his arms and stands. The presence of her wand feels as if it’s fading away. Mostly likely the embers of the fire have got to it. Tina must get to it however, before there’s nothing left to the church but tinder. Before one of her last links to her swansong of a childhood disappears into dust.

“Go,” She says to them all, waving them away with a gentle hand, a small smile set on her face, “I’ll be fine, I promise,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Margarete- Ich möchte auch gehen = I want to go too
> 
> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes...return?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,   
> This chapter is from Newt's pov again, and carries on from the last chapter. Hope everyone likes it!

Newt stares in fond disbelief at the place Prince and his brother have disappeared for the second time. Jacob elbows him in the ribs chuckling. 

“Your girl sure is stubborn, isn’t she?” The muggle laughs. Newt nods his head, relief bursting across his face and heart.

Tina’s fine. Theseus and Yusuf had both promised him reverently. Newt had almost collapsed when the pair had come back, not with a woman but with a child. An unconscious child at that. But after many hasty explanations, Theseus had re-saddled the zouwu and rode off again to bring her back to him.

Tina was safe. A little worse for wear, but alive. Newt’s head falls to his knees in relief, and he too laughs joyfully. She’ll be back. In his arms. They’ll make up. He’ll tell her he loves her. Everything is going to go back to the way it was again. 

“Miss Tina?” A shrill voice cries out. Newt turns to find the boy gaping round the room, Nagini and Yusuf holding his hands. The child moves in his seat, twisting vigorously seemingly disappointed by what he finds, 

“Where is Miss Tina?” He croaks, his eyes wide and fearful. The blood is almost invisible, so dark is his skin. But Nagini somehow sees and wipes it tenderly off his forehead. 

“What’s your name?” She asks kindly. Jamie stares at her suspiciously instead of answering, curling in on himself. 

Newt moves closer, anxious to help. He crouches in front of him, looking him carefully in the eye. He holds out a hand slowly, giving the scared child all of the power. He boy considers him for a moment, with a disbelieving look he finds far too familiar of one Tina Goldstein. But eventually he tentatively takes it, his small hand surprising firm in Newt’s gentle grip. 

“I’m Newt,” He introduces himself, smiling kindly. Something like recognition flickers in the child’s eye. Yes. Now there’s no doubt about it. Newt’s definitely being judged.

“I’m Jamie,” The child says quietly, his eyes shifting round the room, large and round when focusing on candles that are seemingly being suspended by nothing, “Where is Miss Tina?” He asks again resolutely, glaring round at each of them as if it were their fault she's not with them. 

“She’s coming,” Yusuf rubs Jamie’s back gently, “But she had to make sure you were safe,” The lad nods slowly, a small smile on his face.

“We did it,” He says happily. 

Newt catches Jacob’s eye curiously, and he shrugs. A question hangs on Newt’s lips but it’s silenced when Jamie sits forward, and something catches in the candlelight. Tina’s necklace hangs bold as brass round the lad’s neck. The child notices, and cups it in his palms, examining it gently. Newt’s caught with the cruel need to snatch it off his neck, and bury it to his cheek. But he knows he cannot, he can’t even ask for a hold. For Tina would’ve never given such a precious item away to a mere stranger. Jamie must be someone she’s grown to care for deeply, to trust him with her mother’s heirloom. Newt swallows down the strange apprehensive feeling that has grown, like a weed, in his stomach. This has to be a good thing. For one, it’s clearly a sign she’ll return, and definitely a sign of trust. But then why is his stomach twisting so nervously? 

Whoosh! 

“Newt!” A familiar voice cries out. 

Newt turns so fast his neck snaps uncomfortably. Prince has reappeared, throwing his mane back heartily in success. Theseus sits astride him, like a valiant knight from a fairy-tale. And behind him, with her arms wrapped tightly around his waist sits Tina.

His Tina. Beaming from ear to ear, with dirt streaked across her face, her once white shirt a dull brown. 

“Newt,” She says again, as soft and as gentle as anything. It’s like their last conversation never happened. Newt can’t help but smile back joyfully as she hops tentatively off the Zouwu’s back, and almost runs towards him. 

“Tina,” Newt mumbles as she embraces him, two arms thrown artlessly around his neck. Her buries his face in her shoulder, nuzzling her gently, “are you all right love?” 

“Perfectly,” Tina answers, kissing his cheek as light as a feather, before pulling away, “how is everyone else?” Her bright eyes revolve around the room brightly. Everyone smiles back. Except… 

Prince yawns tiredly, freely showing off his razor sharp teeth. Then he pads over to awe-struck Jamie, and settles down like a common tabby cat, pulling the child towards him as easily as a roll of yarn. Jamie’s eyes flicker between the beast and his lady, the battle seemingly unending. Eventually he decides on both, snuggling under Prince’s chin, his eyes settled towards Tina hopefully. Newt hears her take an unsteady intake of breath. 

“Ah,” She says faintly, taking a small step towards the lad, “Darling,” Tina holds out her arms, but Jamie’s face turns strangely blank, and he turns away from her gentle smile, to hide his face in Prince’s fur. 

Dumbledore clears his throat, to dispel the sudden awkwardness. Newt places a comforting hand around Tina’s waist, squeezing comfortingly. But his not entirely surprised when she jumps away. A mess of emotions, all of them badly drawn swim over her face, the rejection of this boy clearly stinging her painfully.

“Did you get your wand back, Miss Goldstein?” The professor asks, walking forward briskly to ring her hand in greeting. 

“No, no I did not,” Tina stammers, her cheeks glowing with a slight blush, her hand rather weak in the great wizards own.

Theseus laughs heartily, clapping Newt hard on the back, flushed with his success.   
“The church had almost collapsed around her by the time I got there,” He winks at Tina, which only causes her to become more red. Newt puts his arm around her protectively, and his time she doesn’t move away, but instead leans into him. 

Theseus turns sober at her reaction, and he gives her a genuine smile.

“You were amazing Tina, what you did for those children,” He gives Jamie a small salute, and Tina hangs her head, humbly hiding her face away. Newt tucks a thumb under her chin, bringing her up to look at him. She blinks, her dark eyes just as beautiful as he remembers. 

“My brave salamander,” Newt murmurs lovingly, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear sweetly. 

Tina’s face twists into one of disdain.

“What did you just call me?” she asks, a sharp eyebrow raised in scorn, as she bats his hand away. 

Newt’s heart pangs with hurt, as her lips curl up into a disbelieving smile. She’s never laughed at him before. She was the only person who never has. The beast in his chest snuffles sadly, collapsing in a heap in his abdomen, hiding his head in his paws. ‘Maybe she never liked the nickname,’ he swallows his shame, averting his eyes from her own mirth filled ones. ‘Maybe she was lying…wanted something better, like ‘darling’ or ‘beautiful’’ 

“I’m sorry honey, I’m sure I’ve told you before,” Tina giggles, “I mean what kind of woman would want to be named after a damn lizard?” she strokes a condescending hand down her arm, and Newt tries his best not to flinch. 

Prince growls, a dangerous rumble that shakes the floor of the Room of Requirement. There’s a poignant silence.

“Tina would,” Jamie states determinedly, his high voice ring round the room. He’s glaring at the woman in Newt’s arms with all of his ten-year-old might, “she told me she did,” There is childish truth to all his looks. 

Tina’s loud laughter fades, and Newt feels her muscles tense beneath him. The ugly look on her face is not her own. Newt stares at her properly. Is it just a trick of the light, or are her eyes not as dark are they usually are? More like melted chocolate, instead of a lake on a dark night.

“What was the last thing you said to me?” he asks, his voice dripping with suspicion. 

Newt runs his eyes across her frame. Nothing seems out of place. Except for the new found fear on her face. 

He can feel their little party creep closer around them. The protective hands of both Theseus and Jacob rest on his shoulders, as Tina stutters. His numbing relief is swiftly turning to cold, heart-shattering fear. 

“The last thing you said to me!” Newt almost shouts, tears pricking painfully at his eyes. 

“I love you?” Tina tries to say warmly, but it comes out like a scared whimper. 

Newt would’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. When he shuts his eyes he can still see it. The way her blotchy cheeks puffed up with anger. How her nails scraped at his skin. Their shared pain as their frustrated words slashed at each other.

‘I want to be with you,’  
‘Then be with me!’  
‘I can’t’ 

He pushes ‘Tina’ away, and stumbles backwards, pointing his wand at her nose.

“Not even close,” Newt snarls, as he waves his wand. It’s exactly the same spell he used on Grindlewald, only a year ago. Except instead of the proud feeling of success, all Newt feels is dread as the love of his life melts away to become the snivelling face of Abernathy. 

“Oh Merlin,” Theseus swears harshly under his breath. His nails dig into Newt’s skin, “I’m so sorry Newt,” 

Newt barely hears him. All he can hear is the blood pounding in his ears. Sour sick on his tongue pools on his tongue. 

“Where is she?” He screams, his throat aching with the effort of expelling the words.  
Abernathy’s eyes show clear fear, but his mouth stays firmly stuck together. 

Dumbledore sighs, as though this were all just a piece of inconvenience over a cup of tea. He takes his time walking leisurely over the restrained American, all the while rummaging for something in his pocket. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, he bends over and grasps Abernathy’s nose firmly. The pathetic excuse of a man looks confused for a moment, but as more precious seconds tick by, Newt can see how his limbs twitch and face grows puce as his body screams for oxygen. Finally, he’s forced to take a gasp, and Newt catches a glimpse of a snake like tongue before Dumbledore pours a tiny bottle of clear liquid down his throat. 

“Who took Tina Goldstein?” the great wizard asks him firmly, shaking him harshly by the collar. 

“Rosier,” Abernathy’s mouth spits out the words without his consent, “I was told to take her place,” 

“Why did she take her?” Dumbledore asks coldly, his blue eyes like icicles. 

“Miss Goldstein is incredibly powerful,” Abernathy says as if he was reading from a script, “Miss Queenie can read minds, but Miss Goldstein almost defeated Grindlewald in a duel. Grindlewald says…” Abernathy forces his mouth shut. Literally, using his hands to keep his jaw together. 

“Grindlewald says what?” Dumbledore asks, his voice dangerously low. 

“Grindlewald says Miss Goldstein is kin with Credence,” Newt’s jaw drops. Tina and Credence are related? Everyone in the room seems almost paralysed with shock. Except for Dumbeldore, who nods as if this all makes perfect sense. 

“And?” he says, poking Abernathy’s leg harshly with the tip of his wand. The traitor yelps, as a small the fabric of his pants sizzles away, letting the wood freely burn his bare skin. 

"And Grindlewald wants her,” the American shrugs helplessly, trying to shift frantically away from the torture “he wants to destroy you, and Credence is progressing to slowly for his liking.” 

A small smile cracks on his face, and it’s only Jacobs’ hand on his jacket keeping Newt from punching the man in the face. 

“He says she won’t refuse with her sister, Aurelius, and all the other children in the room” Abernathy giggles, his eyes wide with awe of his masters grand plan. 

“Where is Tina?” Dumbledore asks. For the first time in his life, Newt thinks he hears a twinge of fear in the great wizard’s voice. 

“Nurmengard,” Abernathy replies grinning widely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cell and a visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Here's a short chapter in a celebration of me finishing my exams (whoo! Freedom!) Hope everyone enjoys!

Tina wakes to blackness. The blackness and the damp. The floor beneath her is cold, hard, so hard on what she’s beginning to believe are cracked ribs. But she’s so tired she can’t even bring herself to lift her head off the floor, let alone ease the deep boned ache in her sides. Tears spring to the corner of Tina’s eyes. Queenie, Credence, Newt, Jamie. How many more people will she lose? Let down? 

She’d promise Jamie he could stay with her. She’d promised Theseus she’d be all right. She’d been so stupid. Of course there was a reason her wand didn’t come to her call. It had been right there, ready for her fingertips. She’d been so close, so damn close. And then the bright red flash of a stunning spell blinded her momentarily, and Tina had known no more. 

A bundle of light flickers in the distance. A candle slowly moving towards her, being held by a steady hand. It burns her weary eyes, but Tina forces herself to squint into it. Forces herself to direct her gaze on the person holding it. A woman, also holding a bowel and a wand. A familiar wand, and a familiar woman.

“Teenie,” Queenie says, her voice filled with tiredness,” how are you?” 

Tina scrambles to her feet, as her sister bends gracefully down. Her limbs are as heavy as lead as she stumbles over to the rusty bars of her cage and she collapses against them. Queenie has made sure that there’s a large berth between them- but a bowel of steaming soup and Tina’s own wand rest at her feet. 

Tina takes her in sister hungrily. She looks well. Her blonder hair is perfectly curled, and she’s dressed in white so stark, it almost seems a crime to see it wasted on the walls of this dungeon. Queenie’s look of contempt though- that matches flawlessly. Almost as well as the itch that wracks Tina’s skull that has come from too many days without soap and water, and her shirt that used to be white but has slowly become brown. 

“I’m glad to see that everyone’s alright,” Queenie says stiffly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The familiar adage falls easily to Tina’s lips. ‘Don’t read my mind’. She pushes it back. She can’t risk that now, not when her stomach aches with hunger. Just the smell of the soup is enough to make her dizzy. Tina grips the cell’s bars with sweaty palms. 

“Queenie,” she pleads, “help me, please,” 

“I can’t,” she replies simply, and Tina hangs her head, her anxiety clawing at her throat. 

“But you can help yourself,” Queenie kicks her wand lightly. It performs one graceful rotation and Tina grits her teeth. She doesn’t need to be a legilimens to understand what her sister- Grindlewald- wants from her. 

“No,” she says, her voice dressed in stone, “never, Queenie, please, you know-“

“I have seen you call your wand to you for years,” her sister interrupts desperately. Almost if she’s expecting Tina to agree. ‘I will not,’ she thinks firmly, setting her shoulders back determinedly. Queenie sends her a withering look, reading her easily.

“A simple flick of your wrist and all of this will be yours,” she waves at the gifts in front of her, “your wand, your food, a bath, your freedom,” 

“Freedom?” Tina’s voice squeaks out of her barren throat. She shakes her head in disgust at her sister, “Grindlewald is not freedom Queenie, he’s a prison,”

Queenie cocks a sullen eyebrow at the cell she’s contained in. Tina sets her jaw, and refuses to yield. She will not. Not for a soft bed, not for a tub of hot water, not even for the wand that she’s had since she was eleven. Her stomach grumbles in protest.

Tina steps back off the bars and into the shadows. Queenie shakes her head. 

“You’ve always been proud,” she murmurs absently, picking up her wand and stashing it away in her dress. 

“Loyal,” Tina croaks, letting the image of Jacob swims into her memory. All four of them together in New York. At their dinner table, in the speakeasy, down in Newt’s case. Then the memory of them dancing, her, Newt, Jacob and Theseus laughing like fools, the alcohol buzzing in their brains. 

Queenie turns away so abruptly the light of her candle flickers out. 

“Don’t let loyalty kill you, sister,” she says firmly, only a slight wobble in her voice. 

The smell of the coup she’s left hangs temptingly in the air. How long has it been since her last proper meal? Tina can’t even remember. A few scraps of bread and mouldy fruit that she’d tried eat the bare minimum of, saving most of her share for the children. A few sips of dirty water. Her hand wobbles with the effort not to summon the bowel towards her. 

But no. Tina drops to the ground, determinedly wrapping her arms around her knees. No, she will not show weakness. The shadows crowd in as Queenie’s footsteps fade away. 

Tina sobs. At least not any weakness they can see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!   
> Sorry this took me so long to update, hopefully the next few will be quicker. We're on the downward stretch now!   
> Hope everyone enjoys!

Newt smiles down at her. Tina smiles back, rubbing her head tiredly against his bare chest. His fingers trace soft circles on the bare skin of her back, and she sighs contentedly. 

“Stay,” Newt rumbles in her ear, his voice thick with sleep. 

“I can’t,” Tina hears herself reply, “I’ve got work and you’ve got the kids,” 

“Jamie can look after the kids,” he wheedles, rolling on top of her and kissing a line down her neck. 

“Jamie is one of our kids,” she scolds, trying her best to push him off. But Newt refuses, holding her down, and if she’s honest she doesn’t want to resist.

“My wife,” Newt mumbles, and Tina’s heart soars. She draws his head up for a kiss, laughing as he pulls the covers over their heads. 

“Miss Tina,”

“Newt,” Tina groans as the scene fades leaving her cold and alone. The slim warmth her arms can provide is all that’s left of Newt’s burning touch. 

“Miss Tina,” a familiar voice whispers from the shadows. 

“Credence?” Tina croaks, pulling herself towards the man who’s crouched beside her cells bars. 

He’s as healthy as she’s ever seen him. His cheeks have filled out, and his clothes look well-made and well cared for. And yet there are dark shadows under his wary eyes. 

“Are you,” she breathes through cracked lips, “are you alright?” 

Credence blinks down at her, his big brown eyes illuminated by the flames that are crackling in the palm of his hand. 

“Am I alright?” he asks dubiously. Tina swallows, clutching her stomach. It aches constantly now. With hunger, with pain. She’s always been slim, but a few ribs have begun to poke out of her skin. The cold bowel of soup lies forlornly on the ground near Credence’s feet. It’s still full. 

Credence is playing with a wand. Tina’s never seen it before. It’s long, black, carved to perfection. It must be his, she supposes. A gift from Grindlewald. For the greater good. She grinds her teeth together. Mercy Lewis, this is all her fault.

“I’m so sorry Credence,” she murmurs, leaning her head against the wall. 

“It’s Aurelius now,” he replies, and the flames in his palm rise higher. 

“Aurelius,” Tina repeats, not quite sure what to make of it. It suits him, and yet it doesn’t. Like adding the milk before pouring a cup of tea. The result is the same but it doesn’t feel right somehow. 

“I was told not to come down here,” Aurelius informs her, and she clenches her hands tight. 

“Then you should go,” she says quickly, “I don’t want to see you get into trouble because of me,” 

He shakes his head, staring intently at a particular cobweb on the ceiling. 

“I had to see you,” he says faintly, “I wanted to ask you something,” 

“Yes?” Tina asks intently, pulling herself up to a sitting position, trying to catch his eye. 

“Why did you help me?” Aurelius asks, finally turning towards her. His eyes are dark and serious, his face pasty grey. 

“I had to,” she replies blankly, “you were being abused by that woman,” she crunches up her nose in disgust. 

“No, I mean why?” He asks again, even more firmly, his voice almost angry, “who sent you, what were you getting out of it?”

His words make Tina shake with rage. Has this person really had no one in his life do anything for him voluntarily? Not stranger, one of his siblings, a friend? She remembers how he lent into her touch tentatively, despite how starved he seemed of human contact. As if he was expecting her to leave him as soon as possible. Or worse, strike him. 

“Nothing,” Tina spits fiercely, “I got nothing, and got asked by no one,” 

“But you didn’t know me, don’t know me,” He replies petulantly, his face awash with disbelief. 

“You were alone, and you were hurting,” Tina cries, her anger turning to tears, “I couldn’t leave you, I had to help, I had to try,” 

She reaches out a hand through the bars. Aurelius takes it weakly, barely holding on, his wand still clasped carefully in his thumb. Tina squeezes hard enough for both of them.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” she swears fervently, “I tried to do it again, in Paris, and I failed, I failed you again and I’m sorry,” 

The fire sitting in Aurelius’ hand shoots out sparks, hot enough to singe their eyebrows. Tina pats out various smoulders, as he hastily tries to calm the blaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, his cheeks pink with embarrassment, “I haven’t got control of it yet,” 

Tina smiles empathetically at his bitter frown. 

“It happens to me too,” she admits, sighing, “I can never quite get control of my emotions,” 

“That’s what he said my problem was,” Aurelius begins passionately, but then his eyes widen curiously. 

“You can do it too?” he asks her wondrously. 

Nodding enthusiastically, Tina gathers her magic to her palm that’s not resting in his own. A weak flame flutters on her fingertips. 

“It’s usually stronger than this,” she grits her teeth, trying to make the fire burn brighter. But it’s to no avail and it slowly but surely splutters out. Tina’s stomach gives an indignant grumble. Aurelius casts her a concerned glance. 

“You need to eat,” It’s not a question. 

“Yes,” Tina doesn’t bother denying it. Her limbs feel floppy and her head is a dead weight on her shoulders. 

“Here,” Aurelius reaches forward, grasping the bowl of soup and awkwardly passes it through the bars. He manages, mostly successfully, to not let any of the lumpy liquid drop on the ground. 

“I can’t,” Tina says helplessly, but clutches the meal to her anyway. 

“You can,” he snaps his fingers and the bowl steams. She stares down at the soup hesitantly- it looks so good, more of a stew really, filled with well-cooked vegetables and healthy helpings of meat. But what will they think if she eats it? That she’s finally broken? Or even worse, that she’s willing to comply? Aurelius gives her hand a shaky squeeze. 

“I’ll tell them I ate it,” he tells her softly. Tina lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She grits her teeth, swallows her pride and picks up the spoon. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles around a greedy mouthful of carrots and potatoes. Aurelius smiles at her as she digs in. Tina can’t help but feeling rather like a child, that has finally been wrangled into eating their vegetables. It’s strange, after all this time of trying to look after him; now he’s looking after her. Aurelius seems to follow her line of thoughts. 

“You look younger than I remember,” he admits, as she slurps. 

“You look older,” she agrees. And he does. There’s even stubble growing in on his cheekbones. 

“I always saw you as a teenager,” Tina says, considering him, “but you’re not, are you?” 

Aurelius laughs, a short burst out his nose. It’s a sound she never thought she’d ever hear, and she can’t help but smile. 

“Hardly,” he rolls his eyes, “I’m twenty-six,” 

Tina almost chokes on her spoon. 

“So am I,” she splutters. 

“Really?” Aurelius asks incredulously, shaking his head like a dog trying to rid itself of water, “that’s so strange, I always thought of you as-“ he flushes, and his fingers curl around her own. 

“A mother,” Aurelius whispers softly. Tears drop down Tina’s cheeks. 

Her dream comes back to her, as vivid as pictures in a story book. A mother. A wife. Newt’s soft smile, Jamie’s rouge grin, Aurelius hand clamped tightly in her own. ‘I can’t,’ her last words to Newt echo horribly in her ears. She’s made a terrible, terrible mistake. What if she dies here and the last thing she ever said to him was those awful words? Those words that have now become a lie. Her tears fall faster, and she doesn’t bother wiping them away. Tina wants that dream. She wants it so badly it hurts. 

But first she has to get out of here. First she has to escape. 

Aurelius gives her hand one last squeeze, and then let’s go. 

“I’d better get back,” he says, and Tina carefully passes the now empty bowl through the cage. 

“Of course,” she agrees faintly, lost in her mix of memories and dreams. 

“But, listen Tina,” Aurelius sets her jaw, “they’re going to come for you soon, there’s a test. I’m not sure what, they won’t tell me,” 

Tina bites her lip so hard she tastes blood. A test of magic? Or a test of her pain threshold? 

“Do what they want, and they won’t hurt you,” he says desperately, leaning his forehead hard enough against her bars to leave marks. 

An incredulous laugh almost bursts free of her throat. If they want to hurt her, they’re going to do it anyway- if, or if not she follows their wishes. Her mouth stays shut. 

“Please,” Aurelius begs, “for me,” his dark eyes, almost identical to her own, bore into her own. 

Tina’s resolve breaks. She’d do anything for him. 

“Okay,” she agrees softly, and he smiles toothily. 

The last thing Tina feels like doing is smiling. She shuts her eyes against his happiness. What has she just agreed to do? She doesn’t want to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brotherly chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

Newt rolls over for the hundredth time, his blankets like unruly waves around him. Leaning over the edge of his hammock he picks up his wand and shines it at his watch. 1:15 in the morning. Ten minutes later than when he last looked at it. Grumbling with frustration, Newt throws his wand away, and it lands with a clatter on the ground. He tries to shut his eyes again, but eventually gives up. His eyes may be heavy and sore with both tears and lack of sleep. But his beast is pacing in his belly, fully alert, it’s eyes shifting and wary. There is no way in hell Newt is getting any rest tonight.

Not while Tina is…

Newt swallows harshly, his throat burning with the strength of his sobs. His pillow is soaked with tears, and becoming uncomfortable to lie on.

A week ago, seven whole days, she was here with him. Tina’s head rested on his chest, their legs entwined together. Newt squeezes his eyes tight. If he thinks hard enough he can almost believe she is here. Her soft voice in his ear, her heart beat beating against his own, their whispered nothings sweetening the night air. Newt wraps his blankets tight around him, feeling cold and empty. 

“Oh my love,” He mouths silently to the caves roof, “what have they done to you?” 

Two days ago Newt thought he knew anxiety. Knew it's face, and how to turn it away. He’d lived through the great war after all, and walked treacherous paths in dangerous locations. But he’s never felt fear like this before. Never felt so helpless. It’s like he’s a beetle caught under a jar by a contemptuous child who’s ready to pick off his wings in morbid fascination. And all Newt can do is wait as the walls tighten around him. 

A lost Tina was one thing. They had known where she was, and they had guessed correctly why. Their plans had been frantic, but positive. Jokes were cracked, and Newt had been able to smile. Apprehension had run under his skin yes: but it was from their recent fight and the realisation of his deeper feelings. He was worried about what he was going to say to her. But there was never a moment in Newt’s mind when he thought they weren’t going to get her back again.

Now Tina was caught, and- though they dare not voice it- all but dead. Newt could see it in his brothers and in Dumbledore’s eyes. How the plan focused on investigating and testing defences. Nurmengard was spoken of more than Tina’s name. No prisoner has ever gotten out of that fortress alive. Newt had kept a vigilant silence during their meetings, Jacob’s hand placed protectively on the back of his chair as the other three wizards mapped the castle and its possible entrances. 

Nagini had put it upon herself to get the boy, Jamie, to talk and laugh, but she had yet to achieve any success. The child sat hour after hour, between Prince’s paws, Tina’s necklace threaded between his small fingers, refusing to play. The only person he seemed to open up to was Newt himself. He had been christened ‘Mr Newt,’ by the lad, and he could feel Jamie’s gaze on bore into him when he had his back turned. 

There was only one thing Jaime had deigned to tell all of them. That Miss Tina said he could stay with her, that she promised him he could. He said it so seriously, so sadly, that Newt found it hard to stay in his presence, finding more and more excuses to escape to his case. 

Tina had said she couldn’t be with him, because he wanted a home and children. And yet the first thing she did when they parted, is to give a promise to a child that he could live with her. 

Newt throws if his blankets in frustration, and leaps out of bed, tip-toeing through his shed, careful not to wake anyone. They’ve all taken to sleeping in the case, in the off chance an unruly bunch of misfits burst into the room of requirement to hide from a unforgiving professor McGonagall. He stomps through the habitats, pretending to check on various water bowels and injuries. In truth he can barely find the mind space to walk in a straight line. 

He knew Tina was a complicated woman, filled of contradictions. It was one of the reasons why Newt loved her. Her strength, her shyness, her passion, her loyalty. But Newt had never thought she’d go back on her word. 

A particularly unrestrained step causes a bucket to go flying. Newt halts, frozen, as the resounding band floods his eardrums. He stands as still as stone, watching, waiting. The case is as quiet as a grave. Taking a shuddering breath, Newt moves to walk on again. 

“I thought worrying made you suffer twice,” A voice says plaintively from the shadows. 

Newt jumps about a foot in the air, and turns around glaring. 

“What do you want, Theseus?” He asks, a little more harshly than he probably should have. His lack of sleep and anxiety has shortened his temper so much, Newt rather feels like a dragon guarding his eggs. But instead of children he’s guarding hope. Hope that the love of his life is still alive. 

“Oh nothing,” Theseus gives him an infuriating glance, “just wondering why my younger brother isn’t sleeping this early in the morning,” 

Newt leans back on a post, shooting him a dirty look. 

“Says you,” He shoots back, their sibling bather coming as easy to him as breathing. 

The auror smiles tightly. 

“Yusuf and I,” Theseus says awkwardly. It’s only then Newt notices how his brother’s wearing his auror coat and a dark pair of boots, “We’re about to head off,” 

Newt slumps against the post, a whirl wind of emotions rushing through him, each one as terrifying as the last. What if Tina has been tortured? Broken? Left to freeze or starve? Or what if his is all a trap. She’s already dead and Newt is about to lose his only brother in an attempt to bring her corpse back home. Newt’s face crumples and he gives a whimper of despair. 

“Hey, hey,” Theseus says softly as he wraps his arms around him. Newt falls against him sobbing, much like the auror himself did in the grave yard not too long ago.   
“We’re going to get her back,” His brother says fiercely. So fiercely Newt almost believes it, “Tina’s a fighter,” 

“I don’t want her to fight,” Newt cries desperately, clutching his coat so tight the leather squeaks, “I just want her home, home and safe and protected,” 

Theseus pulls away and gives him a funny look. He can practically see the cogs turning in his brother’s brain. 

“Newt,” He begins, but he cuts his brother off, his sleep derived tongue on a mindless roll. 

“Tina will come home, we’ll make up,” He babbles incoherently, “then we can go off to the country, hide, start a family, away from all this bloody mess,” He punctuates his words harshly and his arms jerk uncontrollably at his sides. Theseus takes hold of them sharply. 

“Newton,” He says slowly and carefully, “You don’t...you don’t really believe that, do you?”

Newt looks wildly into his brother’s concerned eyes. 

“Of course I do!” He almost screams pathetically. Newt slides down the post and onto the ground with a thud, pulling his knees to his chest. 

“If only she wasn’t an auror,” He mumbles angrily, running a rough hand through his hair, “then everything would be fine, I just have to talk to her, convince her, then everything’s going to be fine,” 

Newt rests his head on his knees and tries to catch his breath. He feels Theseus sit down next to him and out a firm hand on his knee. Newt doesn’t look up. 

“Newton look at me,” He speaks so firmly, he could almost be his father. Newt has to obey. 

Theseus’s eyes are red-rimmed and wet.

“Tina’s going to fight,” Newt takes a deep breath, ready to confront him. But the auror holds up a strong hand and he inclines his head in defeat. 

“Tina’s going to fight, and not because she’s an auror,” Theseus tells him, his nails digging roughly into his skin, “She would fight if she were a healer, a dancer or even a bloody magizoologist,” 

Newt turns away from his words, shaking his head dementedly. He doesn’t want to hear what he’s always known come out of his brother’s mouth. 

“Your witch is a fighter,” Theseus says candidly, his voice red and wet, “and she’s going to want to do her part in this war Newt, whether you like it or not,” 

Newt wipes his nose onto his sleeve. A line of silver stains his shirt. 

“She told me she wanted to wait till the war is done, Thee,” He says his voice as dull as a wet stone, “Wait to be together, wait to start a family, but what if the war is never over?” 

He looks up at his brother like he did when he was a child. Like he hung the moon, a god with all the answers to the universe. Theseus gives a small chuckle and rests his head against his own. 

“Can I be honest with you Newt?” He asks quietly. Newt nods. 

“I think you two are the biggest pair of fucking idiots I’ve ever met,” Newt’s mouth falls open. 

“Excuse me?” He asks coldly, turning away from him. Theseus shoves him in the shoulder. 

“You love each other so much, want a life together so much,” He gives him a small, sad smile, “That you are both refusing to do so in a world where anything bad is happening,” 

“What?” Newt croaks childishly. Theseus shakes his head wryly.

“You’d have to be blind to see Tina doesn’t want children, love children,” His brother says reminiscently. He looks out at Newt’s shed, where Jamie’s sleeping soundly on Prince’s stomach, her necklace hanging proudly round his neck, “She was the only one of us, in Paris, who was there for a selfless reason, for that boy, Credence” His voice shudders with self-hatred and Newt puts his cold hand on top of his brothers warm one. 

“We were all either there for ourselves, or for Grindlewald,” Theseus says firmly, “Tina put her job and life on the line for a person she doesn’t even know,” 

”And you Newt,” He continues, giving him a brotherly smile and ruffling his hair, “I can’t remember a time you weren’t rescuing creatures,” He waves a vague hand around the case. 

“How many of these have you saved?” He points at the mooncalves bobbing behind them, the billywigs fluttering above them and Dougal who’s watching them with shinning blue eyes.

Newt bobs his head humbly, embarrassment flooding his cheeks. Theseus gives him another tight hug.

“You both love saving broken things and making them safe,” Theseus says wisely, “But you shouldn’t hide or wait until the inevitable is over, before being together,”   
The elder brother kisses the younger on the forehead. 

“You’re never going to be safe, Newt,” Theseus whispers tightly, “but you can be happy,” 

Newt stares at him. Could they truly be happy with the very real threat of their families pain? Are they strong enough to survive it? A smile grows across his face like a flower. All winters, after all, must melt into spring.   
If anyone could be strong enough, it would be Tina. And Newt thinks he could be. With her by his side. Theseus smiles back at him proudly and pats him on the back. He goes to move away, and Newt pulls him back, taking him tightly in his arms. 

“Thank you Theseus,” He murmurs, “Stay safe,”

“Of course,” Theseus whispers back, “And I’ll get her back Newt, I promise,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Hope everyone enjoys this chapter. We're going back to Tina, and her test.  
> But who is a friend and who is a foe?
> 
> Disclaimer: This chapter involves death, and abuse. If this could trigger you in any way, please don't read it.

“You go round to the right, I’ll go to the left,”  
“How many are there again?”  
“Five at the least, ten at the most, and the majority of them are hidden”  
“This is going to be impossible,”  
“I know, but we have to try,” 

“Wake up!” Tina sits up with a jolt. She blinks upwards to find four, indiscriminately cruel faces grinning down at her. And in the middle of them all standing proudly in a pristine green velvet dress, stands Rosier- a perfect smirk on her lips. 

“Nice to see you again Miss Goldstein,” She says, smiling serenely down at her, her lips painted a sticky red, “No dreams about a Mr Scamander last night? How disappointing for you,”

Tina squeezes her eyes tight, and takes a deep breath. Whatever happens next- she will not break, will not lose her nerve, whatever Queenie has told them. There’s too much at stake for unnecessary emotions like fear. Queenie, Aurelius, Jamie, Newt, Theseus, Jacob, Nagini, Yusuf, Dumbledore. Their names spin round and round in her head like horses on carousel, making her dizzy. Tina will never betray them. 

She straightens her shoulders, and glares fiercely at Rosier, like she’s the proud lady of a great castle, not a filthy prisoner of this dank dungeon. 

“Whatever you’re going to do with me,” She says sternly, refusing to look at the chuckling men and women, focusing intently on the French woman, “Hurry up and get it over with,” Tina keeps her face smooth, but clenches her muscles, waiting. The cruciatus curse maybe? Or sectumsempra? 

Rosier face breaks into an amused smile. 

“Do with you?” She says, her voice tinkling round the walls like a gentle brook in a no-maj fairy-tale, “Why Miss Goldstein, you believe to be under the impression we’re going to do something bad,” 

Someone sniggers, loudly. Tina raises a disbelieving eyebrow, flushing with the odd feeling of success. (What's good about being right about the fact you're going to be tortured?) Rosier’s beautiful features morph into an ugly frown.

“Crabbe,” She barks at a large man with piggy wet eyes, whose mirth is currently spilling over that massive hand that covers his mouth “Open the door,” 

He does so quickly, his tail between his legs. Her cage opens. Tina blinks. Is this a test? She stays put, her knees numb where they rest on stone. She refuses to do anything that may bring them satisfaction. Rosier rolls her eyes at her exasperatingly. She pulls her wand out of her robes and points at Tina in a smooth moment. 

“Come along Goldstein,” She orders, and Tina feels her legs unfold beneath her and march themselves out of her cell. She struggles pitifully. But whatever spell was used, she is useless to its strength. She has to hold up her pants, that once fit snug round her hips to prevent the fabric from collapsing at her feet. 

Tina is almost a foot taller than Grindlewald’s henchwoman, but Rosier still has the ability of making her feel about two feet tall. The French woman tuts, her fingers playing with her fraying shirt and dirty hair. 

“This won’t do, won’t do at all,” She sighs, shaking her head helplessly, her mouth in a pout. 

“Bolton quickly,” A dark haired woman, with shifty eyes bows in her direction, “Run our guest a bath,” 

Guest? Bath? Tina tries to catch Rosier’s expression as she’s ushered swiftly away but it melts into the darkness. Bolton’s sharp fingernails dig painfully into her arm as she leads Tina through the catacombs of the castle. It must actually be a castle, she thinks numbly as she's pulled upwards slowly into light. The stones under her feet have melt from black, to grey to white. Elaborate marble statues of beautiful but cruel witches and wizards decorate the hallways, their limbs moving jerkily. And brilliant white flames hover overhead, instead of candles or electricity. This is the home of a person unconcerned with the importance of hiding magic. 

Tina tries to remember their route, or any obvious landmarks. But Bolton keeps an unrelenting pace, and eventually she gives up, following her capturer in stony silence.  
Finally, they reach a massive pair of double doors, made in what could only be marble. Bolton waves a wand and they creak open to reveal a magnificent bathhouse. Four baths, as big as most small swimming pools sit steaming. Pink bubbles the size of beach balls bounce off the shining waters and reflect off the creamy walls. 

“Wash,” Bolton says sharply, pushing Tina forward. Her nose is scrunched up in disgust, and she wipes her hand gingerly on the skirt. Tina blushes. There are no words to describe what she smells like, and her skin looks like as if it has been dipped in grime. 

“Try to make yourself to presentable,” Bolton can’t walk away from her fast enough, “I’ll come back with some clothes,” The large heavy doors swing shut with a snap behind her.  
Tina places a weak hand on one of doors knobs. It does not yield. She rubs one hand over her face tiredly, and turns towards the baths- the need to be clean too strong for her to refuse. Her clothes fall off her body, and lie like forgotten snake skins on the floor. Tina’s glad there isn’t any mirrors. Her legs are unhealthily thin, and her wrists bird like. She half expects her fragile skin to melt off her bones as she climbs into the burning water. But it doesn’t. Tina sighs, her head banging against the cool rim of the tub in ecstasy, as days of dirt run off her. She ducks her head under the water, refusing to come up until she’s scrubbed completely clean, ignoring her burning lungs. She comes up again gasping, her eyes directed towards the curved ceiling. It is decorated by one simple symbol. A circle broken by a line, surrounded by a triangle. Tina cocks her head in thought. Is it an eye? A strangely drawn ‘A’? No, that can’t be right. But then what on earth could it be? 

“Have you finished?” Bolton bursts through the door way, holding a bundle of clothes. 

“Yes,” Tina says, but she could’ve said no for all the woman seems to care. Bolton bustles her out of the bath, before she’s even finished the syllable; drying her with a flick of a wand and dressing her with deft hands. The clothes are beautiful, clean. They smell like lavender, the scent Tina preferences. The shirt is stark white, and has been made perfectly to fit her; the cuffs not too long, the hem not too short, and no gapping around her bust. She’s even been given pants, not a skirt. Tina watches as her feet disappear into the crimson red fabric, and ties it tight with trembling fingers. ‘Queenie, this is Queenie’s doing,’ she tells herself, refusing to be glad to be clean and dressed to her liking. 

“Hurry up,” Bolton snaps her fingers, as Tina quickly runs her fingers through her hair. Her fringe has begun to grow out and curl around her chin. 

She gets bundled up again like an unwanted package, and pushed through another series of indescribable corridors. Tina can't help but notice a theme of their surroundings with horror. The marble statues of witches and wizard's have been reduced to children. They hover objects with a flick of their fingers, or hold bundles of real flame in their tiny hands. Tina is dragged up to another pair of double doors, and what's depicted on them almost makes her throw up. It's Grindlewald sitting on an arm chair like he's father christmas about to hand out presents. A gaggle of children sit at his feet, looking up at him adoringly. Bolton opens the door as if nothing is wrong. The witch has to pinch Tina to make her walk through. What are they going to make her do? 

A massive window hasn’t been covered yet, and the large moon assists the candles in illuminating the room which Tina gapes around. There are neat little beds, white framed with red blankets. Blocks and dolls are spread messily around the thick fluffy carpet- white with small red spots. Dozens of tiny eyes stare up at her curiously, more interested in the stranger than their play. 

“Get up!” Bolton barks aggressively, “and what is this mess?” 

The children stand. Tina stares at each of their little faces. They smile up at her politely. Some of the boys give her extravagant bows. The girls brush down their petticoats and fix their hair. They’re all wearing some sort of uniform, with the eye symbol from the bathroom emblazoned on their clean red pinafores. They all seem perfectly normal, perfectly happy. Except for when Bolton pushes into the room, and they all unconsciously herd closer together like sheep. Tina clamps her hands together roughly, letting her nails pierce painfully into her skin, before she does something like scream. 

“Are you here to teach us?” A boy pipes up, his blue eyes bright. His little friends nod eagerly. 

“What?” Tina croaks, trying to make her face morph itself into a kindly. She doesn’t think she’s successful. She can almost see the cogs in the children’s brains turning in confusion, and their smiles fade away.

“Of course she is,” A voice says encouragingly for the shadows. Aurelius steps out from behind a pillar. He smiles at Tina happily, before addressing the children who gather around him like buzzing bees, “You guys what to learn how to control your magic, don’t you?” 

“Yes!” The kids cheer. Bolton shoots Tina a knowing glare over their heads. Tina inclines her head hopelessly, to study the dotted ground. They’ve got her, they know they have. Tina swallows harshly, hating herself suddenly. For she knows she’ll never leave these children in the hands of Grindlewald, in the hands of Bolton for that matter. Which means she’s stuck here- At least until she finds a way to get all of them out… of an impregnable fortress. Tears bubble up inside of Tina’s throat. ‘Goodbye Newt, Jamie, everyone,’ She sends up a silent thought, a silent prayer, hoping that it somehow gets to them, ‘I love all of you, but I don’t think I’m coming back,’ 

“Yes, this is Miss Goldstein,” Bolton says, her voice sugary sweet, “She’s going to teach you magic,”

“And if she doesn’t…” Bolton smiles happily, dragging up one child unceremoniously by the wrist. She is six or seven, with two thick red plaits that hang down her back. Her green eyes are wide as Bolton brings her wand down with a vicious snap. The girl cries out, as bright blood bubbles to the surface on her forearm. Tina watches through glassy eyes as it drips onto the white carpet, adding to its spotted pattern. 

The air tightens around her, making it hard to breath. Tina can’t see, she can’t think. Everything is hot and angry, she’s never been so angry. Something beats against her palms. Magic. It wants to get out, it wants to destroy. Tina wants to let it. 

Crash!

Tina’s hands are still trembling. She looks down at her palms in disbelief. They look perfectly normal, the lines in her skin as familiar and comforting as her own reflection.  
Blood drips from pieces of jagged glass, spatting like rain on the windowsill. Tina watches the sight numbly. She feels rather disconnected from her being, it’s as if she’s watching herself from someone else’s eyes. The cries of the children fall dull to her ears: everything sounding as though she’s been dunked in the sea, water pressing up against her ear drums. 

Strong hands take her shoulders and shake her violently. 

“I killed her,” Tina ignores Aurelius’s desperate pleas for her to move. But her feet are frozen to the floor, and all she can do is stare out into the glittering alps, where the serene picture hides the body that must have fallen with a crash on the ground. 

“And HE’s going to kill you, if you don’t get out of here now,” Aurelius’s whispers harshly, his voice sounding as if someone dragged it across the dangerous edge of a knife. 

There was no question about who ‘He’ was. The cool, calm, contemptuous voice of Grindlewald echoes up the hallway. Two pairs of heels clomp smartly beside him- undoubtedly Queenie and Rosier. It’s a wonder they hadn’t come more quickly with all the commotion. Tina eyes flutter shut. She won’t risk these innocent children, Aurelius or her sister. She sighs tiredly. Newt’s eyes and Jamie’s smile flicker in her heart. She holds onto him tightly, ready to except her fate. 

“Tina, run!” Aurelius begs helplessly, wrapping his arm around her forearm. Tina opens her eyes again. Dark brown stares into dark brown, their shades almost identical. 

“Where to, Aurelius?” Tina asks bitterly, her tone wracked with her anger at her own failure.

The door behind them creaks, threatening their impending doom. Aurelius straightens his shoulders, his mouth a grim line.

“My name,” He says firmly, his fingers iron like around her arm, “is Credence,” Then he thrusts his wand towards a wall behind them, and it explodes into dust. 

“Come on! Run!” Credence whisper shouts in her ear, and tugs her along the newly exposed corridor. Tina follows blindly, one hand wrapped in his larger one, and they race down and down the spiral steps. These corridors have none of the main halls glamour and prestige. The stones are dull, dank and completely ordinary looking. They wouldn’t be out of place at Hogwarts. Tina can hear the shrieks of the children echoing up the halls. Each one is like a dagger to her heart, and the knife twists and turns every step she takes. Tina tries dragging her feet, but Credence refuses to let her, almost carrying her away. 

“Don’t,” He mutters, as if reading her thoughts. 

“But the children,” Tina sobs helplessly, turning to look back up where a light dimly shines. Is it her imagination or is that a shadow appearing at the entrance way? 

“You can’t help them,” Credence insists, not looking back. 

“I could’ve though,” Tina moans pitifully. She could’ve done more than pushing their torturer out the window. 

“No you couldn’t have,” Credence states angrily. The air is becoming cold and wet around her. It reminds her of her cell and Tina shivers, “He’s got them, and he’s got me, but he ‘wants’ you. Don’t let him get you,”

Another door appears in front of them. This one is broke, damaged, made of what seems to be mould and soot. Tina coughs. Her clothes are now just about as filthy as they were in her entrapment. Credence draws the sign on the door, the one from the bathroom, with his wand. It glows red. Then it swings open. Tina tastes cold air and pine trees. On shaky legs she takes a step outside. And there it is. The stars, the moon, a pitch black forest. Freedom. 

“There should be another one, just up here,” A voice croaks out from the shadows. 

“Theseus?” Tina squeaks. Her voice is only a breath on the wind, but she hears something like a branch snapping, and the sounds of two people trying desperately be silent. 

“Tina?” Theseus’s voice creaks out hesitantly. A wiry frame looms out from the shadows. 

“Theseus,” Tina cries weakly. The moon breaks through the branches and she can see his familiar brown eyes widening. Tina breaks down again. The tears run steadily down her cheeks; but this time not from misery, but from happiness. She suddenly feels incredibly tired, her eyelids heavy. She hardly hears Theseus’s excited whooping, or Yusuf’s discreet admonishments. Tina turns to Credence, who’s lingering by the doorway, looking wishfully up at the night’s sky. 

“Come with me,” Tina begs tearfully. Credence hesitates, and she rushes to him, catching his hands in hers, “please, come with me, we’ll keep you safe,” He turns away sadly, trying to pry off her fingers. Tina refuses to let him, throwing her arms around his neck. 

“Queenie will know,” Tina whispers tightly in his ear, hugging him hard to her chest. She knows in her heart, she’s saying goodbye, “Queenie always knows,” ‘Especially when it concerns me,’ Tina thinks numbly, ‘she might be hearing my thoughts right now,’ 

Credence hugs her back, squeezing her tightly. Something long, and hard is pushed in her back pocket. Tina freezes. She knows immediately. Her blood sings at her wands reunion. 

“Your sister isn’t as loyal as you think,” Credence murmurs softly, and Tina’s hope trembles. Cold lips press to her cheek. 

“Goodbye Tina,” He says softly. When Credence finally pulls away, Tina reluctantly lets him. His smile is sweet as the door slowly slides back into place. She watches as it fades, leaving a plain wall behind. 

"Was that who I think it was?" Yusuf asks breathlessly, staring at the place where Credence had disappeared. 

Tina's knees buckle under her, and warm arms catch her gently. 

"Is that really you, Tina?" Theseus asks hopefully. His breath smells as if he hasn't brushed them in days. Tina wonders absently when was the last time he slept. 

"I got my wand back," She mumbles tiredly. Theseus smiles, and it's the last thing she sees before her eyes close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!  
> Credence is fine, don't worry. Queenie vouches for him.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I think everyone's been holding out for this chapter for a long time, so I hope everyone enjoys it!

Bong, bong, bong. They’ve been too long. Far too long. Each boom of the clock twists a knife further into Newt’s heart.

Dumbledore and Jacob are busy whispering quietly in a corner. At the beginning of the night the muggle had tried to draw him into conversation. Newt had consented half-heartedly, knowing his forcefully cheerful friend was trying to distract him. And they did. For a while. But the big clock over the doorway had clicked from six, to seven, to eight. The sun had dipped below the sky line, and candles had popped into the room of requirement, tiny flames reflecting round it’s mirrored walls. 

Newt had, had to break away, his nerves too jumpy for his legs to stay upright, his voice too harsh to be properly polite. He’d collapsed next to Nagini who was staring into the depths of the fireplace, as if trying to find solace in the crackling flames. Newt barely saw them. He could hardly see anything. The room was a mysterious blur, the only constant was Pickett’s constant chattering and the constant tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, that was slowly wasting away at his hopes and dreams. 

Theseus and Yusuf had been gone three hours now. It was supposed to be a quick mission. Prince could travel miles in a single leap, a quick stop over to Austria would be nothing more than a walk in the park for him. The wizards were going to stalk out potential sites for entry into Grindlewald’s great fortress. And if there was any chance, any chance at all of a break out, they would take it. It should’ve been taken forty-five minutes, an hour at the most. The beginning of their fourth hour of waiting began at the clocks last toll.

Newt’s stomach twists in uncomfortable knots. There could only be a few reasons why-  
Theseus and Yusuf had been captured, and were now at Grindlewald’s mercy.

Tina was dead.

They had found deserters willing to help them, and were now attempting a new plan, that wanted for more time than a simple surveillance plan did. 

There were all dead. 

Leta’s brother, his brother and his love are dead, their bodies already cold on the floor of Grindlewald’s castle, while Grindlewald and his cronies stand over them laughing cruelly.

He moans despondently into his arms where they rest on his knees. ‘Oh please, please, please,’. He couldn’t stand it. He's only just lost his first love and first friend. He couldn’t stand it if he also lost the woman he’s believing to think will be the love of his life. 

“Mr Newt!” Jamie yells, his voice vibrating with excitement. 

The boy has sat resiliently by the window he’d wished up, the room easily bending to his pleasure. Jamie has spent the four hours staring out over the Hogwart’s grounds, waiting silently, Tina’s necklace clamped tightly in his fist. Newt turns round in his seat to find Jamie pointing joyfully out at an Eastern turret, his brown eyes flashing.

Newt clambers to his feet, rushing over to the window sill. Clasping the child hard on one shoulder, looking greedily out over the roof tops, his heart in his mouth. To find nothing- nothing but the soft lights that shine out of windows. 

“There’s nothing there, lad,” he sighs. The hope that had begun to fill his chest, begins to flow out of him easily as if his skin were a sieve. 

“There was!” Jamie cries stubbornly; as stubborn as a certain black haired witch he knows, “there was a flash of purple light, and, and a claw, there was a claw, Mr Newt,” 

He wants to believe him, he wants to have the strength to sit beside the window and wait. But Newt’s long since lost the childish innocence that if you pray hard enough, the ones you love return to you. His beast lies unmoving within him. His eyes are still open, but his spirits are low, his tail no longer wagging. Will he have to teach Jamie this hard lesson, if Tina’s smile never appears again? 

Pickett climbs down Newt’s arm to rest himself on Jamie’s shoulder, patting his tiny cheek with a leafy hand. The child continues to stare, his nose almost brushing the window pane. His dark features are pale with exhaustion. Newt lets go of his shoulder and ruffles his hair.

“Jamie,” he begins tentatively on hand in his curls, knowing he won’t put up a fight easily, no matter how much sleep tempts him, “perhaps if-“

Crack. 

“Miss Tina!” Jamie screams, flying to where Prince has appeared from thin air. Three riders sit astride his back. 

Yusuf jumps off first. Then Theseus. Tina needs both men’s help jumping down. Her dirty clothes hang off her decrepit frame. Her cheeks bones are hollow, her skin almost translucent. Newt can’t move, his feet are frozen to the floor. It’s as if she’s a ghost- so much a ghost that he doesn’t even risk breathing in case she blows away to dust. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Theseus cheeks are flushed with success, “but someone decided to pass out on us, before we had any chance of giving her veritaserum ,” he frowns at Tina, but it has no heat to it. She doesn’t jibe back, she’s too busy embracing the ecstatic Jamie, who is buzzing like a bee, his head pressed tightly against her stomach. 

“And?” Dumbledore asks Yusuf, as Jacob hugs Tina tightly, grinning ear to ear. 

“It’s her,” the French man replies, a rare smile on his face as Nagini launches herself at him, “a little worse for wear, but it’s her- Tina Goldstein, alive and in the flesh,” 

Tears flow freely down Tina’s cheeks, as she runs a soft hand through Jamie’s hair, whispering soft appraisals in his ear. Rough stone crushes against Newt’s palm. The wall is the only thing holding him up. She’s back. His Tina has come back to him.

A rough sob escapes from his throat and echoes round the room. Tina looks up. Her dark eyes meet his, and they stare at each other, in a moment that could’ve lased seconds or years. Her bottom lip is wobbling, though with apprehension or joy Newt cannot tell. Perhaps it’s both. 

“Come on everyone,” Dumbledore says assertively, ushering the group good naturally out the door, “Let’s give these two some privacy,” 

They all order out- Nagini giving Tina a hasty embrace. All but Jamie, who clings to her stubbornly. Jacob smiles fatherly at the boy, before prying his fingers off Tina’s waist. 

“Come on monkey,” He says kindly into Jamie’s ear, while giving Newt a pointed look, “let’s give Miss Tina and Mr Newt some time to talk,” 

Newt shuffles towards them, his legs feeling simultaneously weak and heavy. Tina looks worse every step he takes. Dirt lines every crevice of her skin and her body seems to vibrate with the effort of standing up. Jacob has finally gotten Jamie to let her go, although the lad looks intensely unhappy about it. In almost a final act of defiance, Jamie grasps Tina’s hand and tugs her down to his level- whispering something in her ear that makes her gasp and her eyes fill with tears. The boy kisses her cheek lightly, before finally letting himself be led out by the muggle.

The doors swings shut and Tina’s shoulders collapse in on themselves. Newt rushes forward to keep her from falling, carefully hugging her close to him. Will she push him away? Will she reject him again? Tina hugs him so tight Newt’s sure his bones will snap. He returns her embrace fiercely, burying his head into her neck. She smells musty, and her skin is soaked in an unhealthy shine. 

“Are you okay, Tina?” he croaks desperately, “Did they hurt you? Touch you?” A list of vile acts run through his mind, each more horrible than the last. 

Tina shakes her head, and her tears fall like rain drops on his shoulder.

“Mama,” She whispers, the word almost incoherent through her tears. 

“What?” Newt pulls back inquisitively. Tracks litter her face, pearls of water pushing through dirt. 

“Mama,” Tina sniffs, her voice choked with emotion, “Jamie, he just called me Mama,”

Newt smiles wetly at the look of complete shock on her face. ‘She truly has no idea,’ he thinks lovingly, ‘the effect she can have on people,’. He cups her cheek gently, sighing quietly as she leans into his touch. The beast stirs nervously inside him, still on guard, ready to run. Last time they spoke of matters such as this, it ended up with her escaping on the back of Prince. Newt flinches, looking down at his shoes. The idea of Jamie calling her Mama, makes his toes curl with joy. ‘But that doesn’t matter,’ he tells herself firmly, clenching his jaw ‘what matters is how Tina feels about it,’ Her tears are soaking his hand, and her fingers are playing anxiously with his shirt’s buttons. 

“Oh Newt,” She cries tremendously, “can you ever forgive me?” 

Newt almost drops to the floor in shock. The only thing preventing him doing so, is Tina’s eyes pleading into his own. 

“Forgive you?” He whispers incredulously, catching her tears with a shaky thumb. 

“All those awful things I said,” Tina wraps a strong hand around his wrist, tying herself to him, “about not wanting a family, not wanting to be with you,” A heart breaking sobs tear through her throat, and she shuts her eyes tightly as if trying to erase the past. 

“What about me?” Newt retorts, his voice dripping in self-hatred, “I wanted to lock you away in a tower, to hell with what you thought,” Shame boils in his stomach, and his free hand encloses in a fist, his nails digging painfully into his palm. 

“I was treating you like an unruly animal I needed to put in a cage,” he spits into her wide-eyed face, “you’re not an animal, you’re a human, and I’ll-“

Newt begins to cry himself, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Tina leans forward and rests their foreheads together gently. He takes a deep breath, her touch causing strength to rush through him. 

“I’ll never forgive myself Tina,” he murmurs. She shakes her head frantically. Tina pulls his hand off her cheek and takes his other one. Her fingers are clammy as they wrap around his own. She leans down and kisses them tenderly. When she bobs up her eyes are bright. 

“Newt, I love you,” Tina says softly. Newt’s heart stops. 

“What?” He breathes disbelievingly. All air seems to have left his lungs. Now Newt’s the one to shake his head. How on earth does he deserve this incredible woman’s love? Tina trembles. 

“I thought I was going to die, without ever getting the chance to tell you,” She says, her voice only cracking a little. She rubs her nose against his, “I want you, a family, a home, all of it and I love you,” 

Newt sobs now, properly. Tina catches him weakly. God knows who’s holding them up. Magic probably. 

“Oh Tina,” He cries hopelessly, “I love you too,” Tina smiles, so bright it’s sure to light up his patronuses for years to come. Newt however, moves away from her embrace, shaking his head. 

“But Tina, why?” Newt sniffs, he looks away from her sadly at where Prince is curled in a corner. The creature had done more work than he had in getting her home, “I hardly deserve-“ 

“Hey, hey,” Tina says, her voice suddenly firm. She presses her thumb to his chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. They’re burning; flames practically leaping off the surface of her irises. Newt can’t bring himself to turn away. 

“This isn’t about who deserves who,” Tina says fiercely, “I once turned your creatures in to a government who would’ve never treated them fairly,” Newt opens his mouth to rebuff her, but she waves away his equally passionate comment with a flick of her hand. 

“I love you, and you love me,” Tina says tearfully, her hands trembling where they hold him, “And that’s all there is to it, okay?” 

Newt crumbles into her, kissing her desperately. Tina’s hands swing up, to tangle themselves in his hair. It’s a messy kiss, sloppy and it tastes of dirt and salt. Have they ever kissed like this before? He doesn’t think so. There’s nothing loving or romantic about it. It goes past that: the beast has taken over, and everything feels raw, like the shock of a live wire. Tina tries to let go- to breath most likely- but Newt has to hang on. He’s not letting her go. Never again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Sorry this took so long, but I love this fic so much I just didn't want to finish it! But here's the last chapter. I have an epilogue planned that I'll get round to posting eventually, but otherwise thank you so much for coming on this wild ride with me! I hope everyone enjoyed it.

Tina stretches her arms out of the feather soft pillows. Her limbs still throb uncomfortably from days of sleeping on hard wood and cold stone. But her hand is still warm from where Newt had been holding it. He’d spent the night beside her, and they’d talked for hours, exchanging chaste kisses, dosing, until she finally fell properly asleep.  
Tina rolls over with the intent of greeting her lover with a kiss. But she’s met with nothing but sheets and blankets- Newt is nowhere to be found. Tina sits up so quickly, it makes her head spin. Sun pours into the room of requirement, but a familiar battered case and a red headed magizoologist are nowhere to be found.  
Unwelcome tears sting at Tina’s eyes, and she wraps the blankets around her tightly. She rocks back and forth, burning with anxiety. 

“Newt,” She whimpers pathetically, as tears drip down her cheeks. Tina knows it’s unreasonable. She knows that he’s most likely feeding the creatures, or with the others. The height of the sun tells her it’s far past morning, and she doesn’t expect him to stay by her side while she slumbers through the day. But Tina’s nerves still twang in the fear that last night was a dream. That she didn’t escape and fall back into Newt’s awaiting arms. That this isn’t just a test, a cruel joke meant to humiliate her. That in any second the façade will fade, and she’ll be alone and cold in her cell again. Tina shudders in horror at the thought, keeping her eyes wide open unless the world suddenly melts away to reveal her dark dungeon.

“Newt!” She cries louder, as her tears fall thicker and faster. Tina’s breathing becomes faster, harder, huffing out of her cheeks. Her fingers twine together anxiously as she shakes, and her nails scratch against her skin painfully, “Newt!” 

“Tina, love,” Someone warm and lean nestles next to her, and whispers comforting nothings into her ear. But she doesn’t stop trembling until callused fingers cup her cheeks. Her eyes find Newt’s worried green one’s. His thumbs gently wipe at her soaked eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Tina whispers, feeling incredibly stupid, “but I couldn’t see you, and I thought…” 

“I’m right here, you’re safe,” Newt says firmly as she collapses into his chest. He’s dressed in soft brown pants and a crisp white shirt and she tries her best to burrow into them. 

“I’d only just ducked out,” Newt murmurs, his voice deeply apologetic, “I had to get Jacob to feed the creatures, I could only leave them so long before they began to riot,” Tina wipes her eyes on his pants, nodding numbly. 

“I knew it would be something like that,” She sits up, giving him a wobbly smile, “just being silly,” She looks down, her cheeks flushing with shame. ‘You’re an auror Porpentina,’ she berates herself harshly, her eyebrows furrowing deeply, ‘You should be stronger than this,’ Warm fingers tuck themselves under her chin. Tina looks up to find Newt staring at her so fiercely, she almost drops her gaze again. 

“Don’t ever say that Tina,” He says roughly, his hand entwining tightly into hers, “You’ve been through hell and back, you have every right-“ Newt gulps his emotions getting the better of him. His own eyes grow wet and Tina can’t help but kiss him. 

Their tears mingle together, as Tina crawls on top of him, wanting to be as close as possible. She’s not going to let him out of her sight for a least a week and maybe longer. Newt seems to share a similar sentiment, as his arms wrap around her tightly and he pulls her against his lap. Her sheet falls from her shoulders. She catches it, and holds it securely by her throat. But she can feel Newt’s hands go from firmly exploring, to cautiously exploring. Then they jump off her as if she was made of burning oil. 

“You’re naked,” He cries out brokenly, his eyes wandering everywhere but her person. Tina hikes up her sheets over her undeniably bare body. She glances behind her. She’d had a bath last night while Newt waited patiently outside. The room of requirement had immediately tended to her wishes, and Tina had scrubbed herself raw in the heated water, before she'd burnt her clothes to ash. 

“Grindlewald gave me those clothes as a gift,” Tina explains scathingly, screwing up her face in disgust, “I wasn’t going to keep them,”

Newt is still stuttering. His glaze keeps flicking to her chest and his cheeks are stained red. There’s a clear want in his face. His jaw clenched with tension but he’s keeping his hands steadfastly off her. Tina wonders vaguely what it would take to make him jump on her. She takes his cheeks in her hands and the sheet slips. It’s only Newt’s quick reflexes that keep her from exposing herself. 

“Tina!” Newt berates her, in a deep growl. His warm hands press the fabric tight to her and her modestly. But in doing so his fingers lightly skim the sides of her breasts. Tina bites her lip, as he leans down, pressing his lips to her neck.

“I could put some clothes on if you wish,” Tina gasps, as his teeth nick her pulse point. He shakes his head viciously, and she smiles like the cat who’s got the cream. 

“I’m in love with a minx,” Newt mumbles, pressing himself tight to her again, and Tina laughs delightedly.

“Yes, and this minx loves you back, most ardently,” Tina leans back her head as Newt continues his assault, her eyelids fluttering in ecstasy. 

“Jamie,” Jacob’s voice booms pointedly from just outside the door, “knock first,” A loud impatient bang shudders the rooms door frame. Tina giggles as Newt groans indignantly against her skin. He presses a final kiss to her skin, as she reaches across to nab her wand. Swiftly she transforms her sheets into a silken dressing gown. Newt sits himself beside her, one arm thrown around her shoulders as Tina assures herself nothing inappropriate is showing. 

“Come in!” She calls, patting herself down for a final time.

The double doors burst open, and a small blur rushes in and bounds up onto the bed. Jamie scrambles over the mattress and into Tina’s arms. She snuggles him warmly and just as tight. He’s put on weight since the dungeon and his limbs no longer prick into her painfully. Tina feels as though she could hold him forever.

“Mr Jacob said I had to wait, as you might be ‘doing something,’” Jamie explains petulantly into her chest. Tina’s cheeks twitch and Newt hides a chuckle in her hair, “But I saw Mr Newt come out so you must have finished whatever you were doing,” Jamie leans back, looking slightly nervous. 

“I was right?” He asks them both tentatively, his eyes round, “wasn’t I Mama?” 

Tears sting at Tina’s eyes again, and she nods stupidly, pulling him towards her again to kiss him on the forehead. 

“Yes, don’t worry sweetling,” She murmurs running a tender hand through his hair. Jamie rolls off her slightly, so he’s stuck between both Newt and Tina like a pea in a pod. His face is alight with success. 

“I knew it!” Jamie shouts, punching his fist in the air. 

“Knew what?” Newt asks him questioningly. 

“Mama calls me sweetling,” Jamie answers knowingly, as if it’s obvious, nesting into Tina’s side, “That other Tina called me darling, that’s why I knew it wasn’t her,” Tina looks between the two males sharply. Jamie is flush with happiness, Newt pensive with understanding. 

“Other Tina?” She asks them both frantically, feeling her pulse beginning to quicken again. Newt runs a gentle hand through her hair, massaging her scalp. Tina leans into him like a kitten, feeling her worries ebbing away. 

“Abernathy masqueraded as you when we first tried to get you back,” Newt explains calmly, smiling down at Jamie, “This young man was incredibly clever in figuring it out,” Jamie puffs up his chest in pride, beaming up at him. 

“I like him,” He whispers to Tina seriously, “Can we take him with us when we get a place together?”

Tina can’t fight laughter then. It bursts out of her like fireworks, causing her body to tremble with happiness. Newt’s face isn’t helping matters. He looks like a lost puppy, half amused and half offended. Tina presses a bemused Jamie to her giggling. 

“We’ll think about it,” She promises the boy mischievously and Newt screws up his nose peevishly at her. 

“Will you now?” Newt replies cheekily, his smile for Jamie but his eyes all for Tina. She winks at him over Jamie’s curls. Newt mouths ‘love you’ back at her, and Tina grins. 

Jamie seems to have enough of this conversation, not surprisingly as much of it is literally flying over his head. He squirms out of Tina’s arms and sits up on his knees. His small hands rummage in his pockets. Tina gasps at what he pulls out. Her mother’s necklace hangs tightly in Jamie’s small fist. 

“I kept it safe for you Mama,” Jamie states reverently, “thank you for trusting me with it,” Newt’s hand strokes her neck as Tina stutters, wordless with love and joy. 

“Thank you Jamie,” Tina finally says tearfully, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her cheeks burn with the strength of her smile. Jamie smiles toothily back, holding it out to her. 

“Can I put it back for you?” He asks shyly. 

Tina nods, inclining her head forward. The warm chain slips over her head and falls safety back to its home around her throat. Tina holds the gold bauble tight to her chest with one hand, and strokes Jamie’s cheek with the other. 

“I’m happy,” Jamie states decidedly, as if all is right with the world, “are you happy?” 

“Deliriously so,” Tina replies honestly, feeling over whelmed. It’s as if she’s drowning in joy. After all the horror she’s seen over the last week, it is hard for her to even begin to process it, “I just hope we can always be this contented,” 

“We will be,” Newt says quietly, and it sounds like a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone liked it!  
> I imagined Newt's first piece as something by either Mozart of Beethoven, but I couldn't choose one, so feel free to insert anyone that seems to fit!
> 
> And also, you might've seen I've connected this story to another I've written 'a mating dance'. You don't have to read it to get this, but I will be make connections to it in future chapters, so if anyone eventually gets confused, that is where it's from.


End file.
